


31 Days of Ineffables

by EveningStarcatcher



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 31 Days of Ineffables Advent Calendar Challenge (Good Omens), 31 Days of Ineffables Advent Calendar Challenge 2019 (Good Omens), Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), after the apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:49:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 43,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22028452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveningStarcatcher/pseuds/EveningStarcatcher
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted ApocalypseUsing Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Day 1: Mistletoe

It was a cold morning in early December. It hadn’t snowed yet, but the sky threatened that it would arrive any minute. In preparation, the back room of the bookstore now included a small fireplace. There was now a fire crackling away merrily, casting a warm glow across the room and casting dancing shadows in the corners of the room. Aziraphale was curled up under a blanket with a book in his hand, but his focus was elsewhere. His eyes were glazed over, staring, unseeing, out the window.

It had been a few months since the world didn’t end and Aziraphale, while he had been enjoying the freedom from heaven’s iron grip, was struggling with it as well. There were fleeting moments where he wondered if he really had done the right thing. But of course he had. Hadn’t he? Yes! Most definitely! The humans are still here, going about their lives, with their wonderful creativity and imaginations. And the bookshop was still here, with its comforts and books. And there was Crowley.

_ Crowley _ .

At this thought Aziraphale was pulled out of his thoughts by a bell tinkling from the shop.

“Hey Angel! I brought you a little something! That café you like had something new – a seasonal thing I think… thought maybe you’d like it.” Crowley sauntered into the backroom, head nearly halfway into a white wax-paper bag, staring at its contents. “I think they said it was some peppermint bark… something. Your girl suggested it, so…. S’everything alright, Angel?” Crowley had looked up to see Aziraphale looking up at him with a sort of far away smile on his face. The firelight sparkled in his eyes and highlighted the soft wrinkles at the corners of those eyes, trying to mask a hidden sadness.

“Of course, dear boy.” Came the soft reply.

“You sure?” Crowley set the bag down and sat next to Aziraphale on the couch. “Heaven didn’t try to contact you, did they?” A small spark of anger flashed in Crowley’s stomach, but he focused instead on Aziraphale. No matter what answer he gave, Crowley could read the real response on his face.

“Oh, no. No need to worry.” Aziraphale gave him a smile, but it wasn’t the bright smile he usually gave Crowley. “Just waiting for the snow to fall. It will be lovely, won’t it?” His eyes drifted back to the window.

“Uh, yeah. It’ll be great.” Crowley remembered the bag in his hand and held it out to Aziraphale. “Want tea with this?”

Aziraphale’s gaze shifted back to Crowley and there was a spark there this time. “Oh, yes, please! That would be lovely. You’re such a dear to do this for me!” He took the bag carefully, peering in and breathing in the scent of the soft pastry. “Oh! It is peppermint! I have just the tea to go with it!” He jumped off the couch and began to make tea. “I just found this at the shop and it will be just perfect! Would you like some as well? I also have a nice bottle of spiced wine that might be nice for a snowy evening!” Aziraphale chattered as he went about his work. Crowley smiled softly and shifted himself toward the heat of the fireplace.

“Wait!” he said, causing Aziraphale to pause. “Where’d this come from?

“Oh, I thought with the coming snow, it might be cozy!” Aziraphale called over his shoulder. “And I thought you’d like the extra warmth,” he added softly.

“Oh.” Crowley was taken aback for a moment. “S’nice.” Aziraphale could see Crowley smile out of the corner of his eye. He returned to the couch a moment later with a cup of tea and a bottle of wine.

Crowley takes the bottle while Aziraphale settles down on the couch. He uncharacteristically tucks his legs up beside him and pulls the blanket over him again. He takes the pastry from the bag and takes a bite.

“Oh, Crowley! This is delightful!” He wiggles as much as his current position allows and takes another bite.

“M’glad you like it.” Crowley miracles himself a glass and pours the wine. “So, what’s really going on, Angel?” Aziraphale moves to dismiss the question, but Crowley interrupts, leaning back to get a better look at his companion. “Don’t bother. I know something’s up – it’ll be easier to just tell me about it now.” He lifts the glass and takes a sip. Aziraphale was right, this wine is exactly right.

“It’s really nothing, my dear. Just being silly.” Aziraphale stares into his cup.

“Aziraphale,” the angel looks up at Crowley at the use of his name. “C’mon. Give me some credit here. I know you better than that.”

“I suppose you do,” Aziraphale sighs. “I suppose I’m just struggling with… doubt.”

Doubt. “Oh.” Crowley is frozen. “Well, I didn’t know you were still…” he rambles. “I’ll just…” he moves to set his glass down.

“Oh, my dear! Not you!” Aziraphale grabs his wrist softly, stopping him. “I could never doubt you.” He adds softly, the firelight once again dancing in his eyes.

“Then… then what?” Crowley stutters, his hand falling into his lap when Aziraphale releases it.

“The right thing. We did do the right thing, didn’t we?” His eyes are wide and fixed on Crowley’s. “Ah, of course we did. Of course!” Aziraphale says mostly to himself. “Right? I mean, the humans are still here. Lovely, strange, wonderful humans, and all their lovely, strange, and wonderful ways. That’s a good thing. Definitely the right thing!”

This line of thinking seemed to be cheering Aziraphale up, so Crowley went with it.

“Definitely! And the books! All your books are still here. And pastries, and wine, and warm fires, and – hey! It’s snowing!” Crowley had just noticed the soft white flakes floating down in the glow of the streetlight.

‘OH!” Aziraphale tried to throw the blanket off and stumbled to the window, trailing it behind him. “It is! How beautiful!”

Crowley joined him at the window, watching the snow, then shifting his gaze to the wide-eyed angel. His smile was warm and wondrous.

“And snow.” Crowley said softly.

“And snow.” Aziraphale repeated, his arm gently brushing Crowley’s as he shifted. “And… and you.”

“What?” Crowley froze again.

“And you. You’re still here. And you’re here. Right here. With me.” Aziraphale’s eyes were now on the floor, his hands fidgeting at his waistcoat. “That feels right.” He pauses, waiting for Crowley to respond, but he is currently unable to. He wants to, so many words crowding, trying to fight their way onto his tongue, but there is a roadblock and nothing happens. Aziraphale’s eyes snap up, wide in fear. “Doesn’t it?” he whispers.

Crowley nods, then clears his throat. “Right. Definitely right. To be here. With you.” Without realizing it, he had reached out and took Aziraphale’s hand in his own.

“Oh no.”

“Oh no?” Crowley drops the angel’s hand, then glances up to see the blush on those soft cheeks.

“The snow has stopped.”

“Oh. Already?”

“Yes. Too bad. I was hoping for a proper snow.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

The two of them stood, perhaps a little too close, and stared out the window, listening to the fire crackle behind them. The silence was light, easy, comforting.

“We were right, angel. Couldn’t have been more right. So stop worrying.” Crowley’s hand twitched toward Aziraphale, but dropped back to his side.

Aziraphale turned to face Crowley. “I know. How could this be anything but right?” His face was bright pink in the firelight, smile wide and soft, and he reached out and took Crowley’s hand in his own.

“Right.” Crowley could only repeat. “Wait!”

Aziraphale took a miniscule step back, but kept Crowley’s hand in his, surprised. Crowley took his free hand and waved it in the air next to his shoulder. Something appeared and he held it up over their heads.

“Really? Mistletoe, dear?” Aziraphale giggled.

“It is December, angel.” Crowley smirked, then his face fell. “If this is to fast for you, or if I’m reading this wrong –“ Aziraphale stepped closer.

“Not wrong. Right. Again.” He looked up at Crowley through his long eyelashes and Crowley’s heart jumped. “Shall we?” Aziraphale asked after a few moments.

“Of course. Definitely.”

Crowley leaned down as Aziraphale lifted his head up to help speed the matter. Their lips met softly for just a moment before Crowley pulled back.

“Okay, angel?”

Aziraphale reached up, grabbed the mistletoe from Crowley’s hand and threw it over his shoulder. “More than okay.” He wrapped his arms around Crowley’s shoulders, pulled him close, and kissed him again, this time with more zest. Crowley’s arms flew around Aziraphale’s waist and kissed him back. They melted against each other as the fire crackled and the mistletoe sat between a cup of tea and a glass of wine.

“Let’s celebrate this Christmas.” Crowley said as he pressed their foreheads together. “I mean really celebrate it. Enjoy all the silly things that humans still get to do because we did the right thing.”

“I think that sounds perfect.” Aziraphale smiled.


	2. Day 2: Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

That night Crowley slept on the couch, his head in Aziraphale’s lap. They talked late into the night, hands entwined, discussing all the wonderful (and strange) traditions humans had for the holidays. Sugar plums, fruitcake, and cookies. And once Crowley reminded Aziraphale that there were more traditions than food, they added skating, snowball fights, and caroling to the list. By the time Crowley drifted off, Aziraphale had written out quite the list and was happily looking it over, making plans and running his fingers through Crowley’s hair.  
  
Crowley stirred to see that Aziraphale had drifted off at some point during the night, his head resting against the back of the couch. Crowley lifted their entwined hands to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to Aziraphale’s knuckles, then pushed himself up to make himself some coffee. Aziraphale doesn’t wake, but he shifts, his arms trying to keep Crowley close.  
  
“Good morning, angel,” Crowley smiles, slithers out of Aziraphale’s grasp, and presses a quick kiss to his forehead.  
  
“Good morning,” Aziraphale smiles and blinks his eyes open. They are bright today, filled with joy.  
  
“Can I get you anything?” Crowley asks as he sets about making himself a coffee.  
  
“Can we go out for breakfast?” Aziraphale sits up sleepily.  
  
“Of course. Where to?”  
  
“Hmm…” Aziraphale was now up. He crossed to Crowley and set his chin on the demon’s shoulder, pressing himself against his back, a comforting weight.  
  
“That’s not an answer, angel. I know you’re not used to sleeping, but you can’t have forgotten the whole English language.”  
  
“I haven’t!” Aziraphale protests weakly. “The café. The one with the crepes.”  
  
“Okay.” Crowley turns and pulls Aziraphale into a quick embrace, then pulls back. “Get ready.”  
  
Aziraphale nods and sets off to make himself ready. He returns five minutes later, just as Crowley is finishing his coffee, bundled in a coat, hat, scarf, and thick knitted mittens, with what looks to be a feather pattern.  
  
“What’s all this? Heading to the arctic are we?” Crowley moves toward the door, smirking at the sight.  
  
“It’s snowing! A real proper snow this time! Must have picked up during the night.” He is nearly glowing with excitement.  
  
“Oh no.” Crowley groans.  
  
“Here,” Aziraphale crosses to the coat rack and hands Crowley a coat and a bundle of accessories, all in a sleek black with red embroidered accents.  
  
“How long have you had these?” Crowley asked as he wrapped himself in the coat, gloves, and scarf. He miracled the hat into a pair of earmuffs, so as not to interfere with this carefully sculpted hairdo. Aziraphale wrinkled his nose when he saw this, but said nothing about it.  
  
“Oh, just a few weeks. Saw them at a shop and couldn’t help myself.” Crowley nearly blushed at this. “Ready to go?” He has stepped to the door, and is pulling it open, mouth open slightly in awe at the scene.  
  
“Let’s do this.” Crowley steps into the bright day. The sun is bright, sparkling on the snow that has blanketed the street. A gentle flurry drifts around them and Aziraphale spins in a slow circle to take it all in, a giant grin on his face.  
  
The two walk slowly to the café. Aziraphale pauses to admire everything. All the shop windows all done up with holiday decorations, the way the snow sparkles on hair of the children passing by, the feel of the snowflakes falling onto his face and melting, resulting in a fit of giggles. Crowley pretended to roll his eyes behind his glasses, but he loved every minute of his angel’s happiness.  
  
After breakfast, the Crowley started to lead the way back to the bookshop, but Aziraphale wasn’t following.  
  
“Angel?” Crowley turned to look back at him.  
  
“I’ve had an idea!” He had a mischievous grin on his face.  
  
“Oh, I have a feeling I’m not going to like this.” Crowley stuffed his hands into his pockets, feigning annoyance, but Aziraphale lunged forward, linked his arm through Crowley’s and started on a path away from the bookshop. “What is this all about?”  
  
“Just want to extend this lovely morning we’re having,” replied Aziraphale with a smile and a glint in his eye.  
  
“Will this take long? It’s cold.” Crowley sidestepped a lady walking her dog and if it meant he was closer to Aziraphale, neither of them minded.  
  
“Just a little longer, dear. There’s something I’d like to do and today is the perfect day for it! And besides, it was all your idea!”  
  
“My idea? What was my idea?” Crowley tries to stop walking, but Aziraphale has his mind set and nothing will get in his way.  
  
“The list!”  
  
“The list?”  
  
“Have you forgotten already, it was only last night!” Aziraphale laughed and the wrinkles that formed around his eyes made Crowley grin. “Yes, the list of the holiday traditions. Today’s absolutely perfect to make our start!”  
  
“And where is this start…starting?” Crowley was helpless, he’d let his angel do anything he wished, even if it meant being out in the snow all day.  
“You’ll see!”  
  


It was St. James Park. Aziraphale was in awe, and Crowley couldn’t help but be impressed as well. The trees were covered in a layer of fine powder that glistened in the sunlight and there was a thin layer of ice on the lake that wouldn’t last the day, but the way it reached out from the shore in fractals that were mesmerizing. There were children running around under bursts of snow they had thrown into the air, laughing and calling to their friends. Crowley was glad they hadn’t gone back to the bookshop just yet. He turned to Aziraphale only to find that he was no longer by his side. He had run off a short way and was rolling snow into balls.  
“What, exactly, are you doing?” Crowley sauntered over.  
  
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Aziraphale was a little breathless, but giddy. He placed one lopsided ball of snow on top of a slightly larger one, then turned back to the snow to roll another.  
  
“Aren’t you a little old for this?” Crowley smirked and leaned against the back of a bench.  
  
“Oh, do stop teasing and help me!” Aziraphale reached a mittened hand out to Crowley.  
  
“I don’t think so,” Crowley laughed, walking to the other side of the bench and lounging on it. “I think I’m best suited to supervise.”  
  
“Oh, but that’s no fun!” Aziraphale looked playfully exasperated.  
  
“Fffffun?” Crowley teased. “I think that’s more your department, angel.”  
  
“Alright then!” Aziraphale shook his head and turned back to his work. He placed the head of the snowman on top of the body and set to work re-shaping. When he was pleased, he set off in search of items to create the face. In the end he had to miracle small bits of coal for the eyes and a carrot for the nose. He removed his own hat, complete with a big pompom on top, and placed it on top of the snowman’s head. Crowley joined him, observing, then walked to the nearest tree, plucked off a small branch and added it to the face, creating a lopsided smile.  
  
“Oh, isn’t it cute?” Aziraphale cooed.  
  
“It’s alright, but it’s missing something.” Crowley said, his head cocked to one side.  
  
“What?” Aziraphale asked, his brow furrowing.  
  
“Don’t worry, I’ll fix it!” Crowley reached over, moved Aziraphale’s scarf out of the way and removed one tartan bowtie, ignoring Aziraphale’s protestations. He placed it on the snowman and stepped back to show off his handiwork.  
  
“I don’t think snowmen usually wear bowties.” Aziraphale looked up at him quizzically.  
  
‘No, probably not, but this isn’t a snowman. Now it’s a snow angel!” He wore the kind of smile that people who just told a terrible joke often do, all open and cheesy.  
“That’s not a snow angel, Crowley.” Aziraphale sounded a bit like a school teacher who isn’t upset, just disappointed.  
  
“No, you see, ‘cause the bowtie, and it’s yours, and you’re…” Crowley couldn’t believe he had to explain this.  
  
Aziraphale burst out laughing. “Yes, dear, I understand!” He reached out and took Crowley’s hand clumsily thanks to two pairs of mittens in the way. “But I think something is still missing.”  
  
“What’s that?” Crowley was trying not to blush at the fact that Aziraphale had taken his hand in public, for anyone to see. No more pretenses, just the two of them enjoying their freedom.  
  
“THIS!” Aziraphale pushed Crowley back into the snow. He landed on his back with a thump and a moment later heard another thump. The two of them were laying in the snow, hands nearly touching. “Real snow angels!” Aziraphale started to move his arms and legs, laughing and beaming at Crowley, who followed suit. Crowley stood first and offered his hand to Azhiraphale, who was still laughing. That beautiful, full-bodied laugh that always made Crowley’s heart warm. Crowley pulled him into an embrace as he came to his feet.  
  
“Oh.” Aziraphale said quietly, surprised at the sudden contact, then wrapped his arms around his waist. “And what is this for?”  
  
“Just…. Because… I…“ Crowley stuttered. Could he even put into words what he was feeling? To be able to be with Aziraphale freely, to experience the angel’s true joy and to be a part of it, it was overwhelming and wonderful. “You’re warm.”  
  
“Warm?” Aziraphale laughed again. “I suppose I am! Let’s get back to the shop and warm you up, shall we?” He wound his arm through Crowley’s and started back toward the shop.  
  
“Thank you, Crowley.”  
  
“For what?”  
  
“A lovely day.” He stopped for just a moment. Just long enough to roll up to his tiptoes and press a quick kiss to Crowley’s cheek.  
  
“Nkg.” Crowley waved his free hand and then shoved it into his pocket. A certain tartan bowtie would be waiting back at the shop when they arrived, next to two steaming cups of hot cocoa.


	3. Day 3: Nutcracker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

Aziraphale placed a record on his gramophone and gently lowered the needle. There was static for a moment as Aziraphale made his way to the shelves of the bookshop, ready to inventory and perhaps find that one book he was hoping to re-read. The strings began their jaunty tune and Aziraphale hummed along as the overture played. He began to pull books off of shelves, placing them on the floor in loving towers, a smile on his face as he looks over each carefully preserved spine. As he filled his arms with yet more books he noticed the title of one in particular -  _ A Christmas Carol  _ by Charles Dickens. Wouldn’t that just be a perfect book to read at this time of year. And this counts as a human tradition, right? He toddles to the backroom, arms still heavy with books, and awkwardly leans down to place the selected reading material down on his desk. He nearly loses his balance and, having no free arms to steady himself, tries to move his feet under him, careening around the room gracelessly. 

“Oh!” He yelps just before he feels someone steady him from behind.

“Careful there, angel! You wouldn’t want to lose one of those books to the fireplace, would you?” Crowley righted him, took some of the books from his arms, and straightened the angel’s bowtie before winking and turning to the shop.

Aziraphale followed, blushing. “Thank you my dear.”

“S’no problem. Where do you want these?” Crowley lifted one of the books and inspected it, as if it would tell him where it needed to go.

“Just here,” Aziraphale placed his books one by one into a neat pile, then reached up as Crowley handed his over as well.

“This again?”   
“This inventory is well overdue.” Aziraphale stood and smoothed his waistcoat.

“Not the books, the music.” Crowley leaned against one of the shelves and crossed his arms. “It’s barely December - a bit early for this, don’t you think?”

“But it’s Tchaikovsky!” Aziraphale retorted. “The Nutcracker is a classic and perfect for December. Besides,” he paused for a moment. “I saw that it’s being performed this month.” He gestured to the front window where a poster was taped up.

“Putting posters up now, are you?” Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“It was one of the children. In the show. Such a sweet thing, very excited. I could hardly say no, could I? Besides, I’m always a supporter of the classics. Coffee?” Aziraphale once again headed toward the back room.

Crowley lingered for a moment, eyes still on the poster in the window, then pushed himself away from the bookshelf to follow. “Sure.” He settled on the couch, sprawled out, one leg dangling over the edge of the couch, one arm behind his head as a pillow. He turned his attention to his phone, scrolling and clicking. “How ‘bout a late lunch out? Your choice.” He said after a few minutes.

“That sounds lovely! I have been thinking about that darling little place we went…” Azirphale had paused on his way to Crowley, cups in hand. “When was it?” Aziraphale handed Crowley his coffee and settled into his armchair with his tea, eyes darting around the room.

“Can’t help you without more information.” Crowley smirked and raised his cup to his lips. Aziraphale always made his coffee perfectly and he savored every drop.

“You know, the one with the… it’s just over on… oh, goodness. I can’t seem to form a proper sentence today.” Aziraphale forced his eyes down to his own cup, looking a bit embarrassed, some pink creeping into his cheeks.

“Something wrong?” Crowley leaned forward a bit, looking at the angel over the top of his glasses, licking a stray drop of coffee from his lip.

“Oh no, dear.” Aziraphale smiled reassuringly. “Just a bit distracted I suppose.”

“Distracted?” Crowley cocked his head to one side, smirk playing at the corner of his lovely mouth. “Anything in particular distracting you?”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale scolded warmly, glancing up at him through his long eyelashes.

“C’mere,” Crowley pushed down a blush and made room on the couch and opened up his arms. Aziraphale hastily placed his cup down and curled up into Crowley’s arms. “So, I’m distracting, then?”

“Of course!” Aziraphale huffed. “Always have been.”

“I suppose I should make up for it, shouldn’t I?” He lifted Aziraphale’s chin with one long finger and started to lean in.

“I should think so.” Azirphale leaned in as well, pressing their lips together. He gasped gently at the contact and pulled himself closer to Crowley. Closer, always closer. Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s waist and squeezed as Aziraphale’s fingers began to brush through Crowley’s hair. Crowley hummed happy against his lips and Aziraphale giggled, pulling away. “Like that?”

“I like you.” 

Aziraphale removed Crowley’s glasses, placing them with care on the coffee table, then kissed him again.

After a while, the two dozed, pressed against each other, warm and happy.

“Time to go, angel,” Crowley said softly, his fingers twirling themselves into soft white curls.

“Go where?” Aziraphale pressed a kiss to Crowley’s shoulder.

“Lunch, remember?” Crowley shifted to the side, guiding Aziraphale to lay on the couch while he stood. “Late lunch at that place. That place I still don’t know.” 

“Lunch!” Aziraphale’s eyes flew open and he launched himself off the couch. “Yes! Of course!” He hurried to bundle himself in his winter gear, and helped Crowley into his coat.

The drive to the restaurant was only as eventful as it always is with Crowley driving. No less than three pedestrians had narrow escapes from being run over. 

They managed to find the restaurant that Aziraphale had tried to mention earlier. A quaint little Italian place with the best tiramisu. The two sat at a table in the corner, hands brushing as they reached for wine glasses and shared bites of food. 

As Aziraphale was finishing his tiramisu with a happy wiggle, Crowley spoke.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.” He smiled softly across the table.

“What’s that?” Aziraphale’s eyes snapped wide open, eager with excitement. “I mean, you didn’t have to do anything.” He corrected himself, trying to rein in his emotions.

“I know, but I wanted to. Besides, it’s something that we can cross off the list.” He tried to appear casual, but he loved making Aziraphale this happy.

“Oh!” Aziraphale breathed, his curiosity practically exploding out of him.

“Ready to go?” Crowley stood and offered his arm to the angel, who nodded and took his hand.

The two walked up to the theatre, glowing with flashing lights, a bustle of people already crowding into the lobby and out of the cold. 

“ _ Crowley _ ! You didn’t!” Aziraphale came to a full stop on the sidewalk, face lit by the marquee lights. 

“S’nothing, angel. Just thought you’d enjoy it.” Crowley led them to the box office and gave his name for tickets, watching the soft awe in Aziraphale’s face.

“I do so enjoy The Nutcracker! But will you?” Aziraphale let a sliver of worry play across his features as he looked into Crowley’s face.

“Don’t worry. I enjoy anything I do with you. Thanks.” He smiled reassuringly, then took their tickets from the teller.

“ _ BOX SEATS _ ? Oh, Crowley! How wonderful!!!” Aziraphale took the tickets, then grabbed Crowley’s hand and nearly took off running in his excitement. 

“Slow down, angel.” Crowley chuckled.

“Thank you so much!” Aziraphale accepted the program from the usher with a smile so wide he was almost glowing. “Oh, this is beautiful!” He exclaimed as they entered the box, taking in every detail of the historic theatre. Crowley nodded to the usher and followed his angel into the box, hiding a smile.

“Sit down, angel, the view’s good from here, too.” Crowley sat and threw his legs over the arm of the chair. 

“Truly dear, thank you. This really is very kind of you.” Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand and pressed a chaste kiss to his knuckles, emitting a faint glow. Crowley opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment the lights dimmed and the orchestra began to tune - a beautiful cacophony of strings, woodwinds, and brass. Aziraphale settled beside Crowley and kept his hand in his, turning his complete attention to the stage as the curtain began to rise.


	4. Day 4: Cranberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

Aziraphale was still humming the Nutcracker the next day. Out of the corner of his eye, when Aziraphale was sure Crowley couldn’t see him, he would spin, twirl, or leap as gracefully as he could over the stacks of books that still lined the floor. Crowley pretended not to see, but snuck glances from behind his glasses, hiding his smirk behind his phone. After about an hour of this he dozed, still listening to the angel’s voice as it drifted around the shelves. 

When he woke, Aziraphale was bustling around the back room with a single sheet of paper in his hands. He was whispering happily to himself as we moved, gathering supplies and setting them on his desk, his armchair pushed further away from the couch than usual. 

“What’cha doin’?” Crowley drawled.

“Oh, you’re awake!” Aziraphale spun to face him, beaming. “I’m so glad! I had an idea when you were napping. You don’t have to help if you’d rather not, but it’s something from the list, so I took the liberty of gathering all of the supplies.” He grabbed a bowl and held it out to Crowley, who reached out and took it, looking at its contents. It was filled with small dark red berries.

“Okay. What?” Crowley asked, picking one up and lifting his glasses to look at it properly.

“Cranberries. And there’s no need for those in here.” Aziraphale moved his armchair toward the couch.

“Cranberries?” Crowley asked, tossing the one he was holding back into the bowl.

“Yes!” Aziraphale wiggled as he seated himself in the armchair. “We’re stringing cranberries! We can use them to decorate the shop!”

“Right. Did you add this to the list after I fell asleep? I don’t remember that one.” Crowley removed his glasses and sat up, ready to assist.

“I might have added one or two.” he busied himself with the needle. “Or more,” he added softly.

Crowley simply shook his head and smiled. “Okay, angel. How do we do this?”

“If you would be so kind as to hand me berries, I’ll string them and then you can help me hang them! Your height will be quite an advantage! OW!” Aziraphale had stabbed himself with the needle and accidentally threw the needle in his surprise.

“Careful, angel! One of us could have lost an eye!” Crowley lowered himself to the floor and crawled over to pick up the needle. “You okay?” He handed the needle over.

“Yes, dear. It just took me by surprise.” He took the needle and readied himself as Crowley slithered back onto the couch.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Crowley held out a single berry.

“I was once armed with a flaming sword, I think I can handle a needle!” He shot Crowley a look as he took the berry and swiftly threaded it. “Next!” He held out his hand.

The two continued this way for a while, chatting while they worked. At one point the cranberries became ammunition as the two called teasing insults to each other. Aziraphale jumped up and hid behind the armchair while Crowley held up the blanket as a shield. 

When the bowl was emptied and the garland was complete Aziraphale coiled the finished product into Crowley’s arms and steered him to the front of the shop. 

“What do you think? Could do above the door. Or we could put it around the pillars, or from the railing above?” Aziraphale flitted from place to place as he chattered. Crowley was tempted to snap his fingers and miracle the garland to every place Aziraphale mentioned, but he knew the angel wanted to do this the old fashioned way. Instead he just watched for a minute, then crossed to the center of the floor under the skylight. 

“Anywhere you want. Everywhere, if you want it.” Crowley handed him one end of the garland. “Just pick, angel. I can’t stand here holding this all day.” He rolled his head back in faux frustration.

“Alright, alright.” Aziraphale huffed, tugging gently on the garland. Crowley obliged and moved toward him. “And what if I choose to drape it around you? Red is your color, dear.”

“It’s definitely not my style. Too festive.” Crowley wrinkled his nose in disgust as he draped the garland around Aziraphale’s shoulders. “Looks much better on you.”

“I don’t think I can agree with you.”

“Well, you should. You can’t see the view.” Crowley leaned down and placed a kiss to the angel’s cheek. “Now let’s get this done before New Year’s. I think it would look best wrapped around the pillars. Maybe with some greenery.”

“I do agree with you on that.” Aziraphale unwound himself from the garland and headed for the closest pillar. “I need your height, dear!” 

“Coming, angel.” Crowley smiled.

That night the two of them moved the couch to the other side of the back room and sat together on it, admiring their handiwork. A bottle of spiced wine was open on the table, their glasses in hand. 

“It actually does look pretty nice.” Crowley conceded.

“It does, rather. Thank you for the help, my dear.” Aziraphale leaned into Crowley’s side.

“S’nothing.” He wrapped his arm around Aziraphales’ shoulder. “What’s next on the list?”

“I don’t know. Is there anything you’d like to do?”

“Whatever you want.” 

Aziraphale shifted away to look at Crowley.

“My dear, I want you to enjoy this as well. You always take such care to treat me, but I want you to treat yourself as well. Be open with me. Tell me what you want or need.” His expression was so tender Crowley had to swallow before he spoke.

“M’fine, angel. Really, I -”

“Please.” Aziraphale whispered, eyes pleading.

“Okay.” Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s cheek. “I’ll pick something. Promise.”

“Good,” Aziraphale settled back against Crowley’s side. “But not right now.”

“Not right now.” Crowley lay his head against Aziraphale’s.


	5. Day 5: Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

The days were getting colder. More blankets appeared around the shop, laid over chairs and countertops and folded among stacks of books. The couch in the back room was barely visible beneath the mountains of blankets. Some were soft and comforting, some were heavy and warm, some red or black and others boasted a joyful tartan pattern.

This particular day Crowley was nearly invisible lounging on the couch, piled high with every blanket within an arm’s length. Azirphale sat at the desk, absorbed in a book. He had tried to tell Crowley about it, but it had helped lull him to sleep, so Aziraphale simply shook his head and returned to his reading. 

It was just starting to get dark outside, the sky a greyish blue, and the streetlights just coming on to brighten the street. Aziraphale shifted in his seat, reaching out to the lamp on his desk. Nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing.

“Hmm, that’s odd.” He muttered to himself as he pushed his chair away from his desk. He stood, crossed the room, and tried another light. Still nothing. “No power?”

“No power?” 

Crowley’s voice surprised Aziraphale, who jumped a bit.

“Seems to be.” Azirphale returned to his desk.

“Do you even need power?” Crowley’s eyes peeked out from the blankets. 

“I do have to run the shop as a human would, so, yes.”

“S’cold.” Crowley turned onto his side, adjusting the blankets as he moved.

“Oh! I’ll start a fire to warm you up!” He smiled at the idea and began to bustle about.

“No, it’s okay, m’fine here. Lots’a blankets.” Crowley said hurriedly.

“Oh, it’s no trouble, dear. I’ve been looking forward to starting a fire the human way, and this is the perfect opportunity!” He was kneeling down, arranging the wood in the fireplace just so and grabbing the matchbox. “I should have a nice warm fireplace for you in no time at all! Just -”

Crowley launched himself off the couch. “No!” He yelled as he grabbed Aziraphale’s wrist, stopping him from lighting the match in his hand.

“Crowley, what’s wrong?” Aziraphale stilled, frozen, trying to read the expression on Crowley’s face. Not anger, even the grip on his wrist made that obvious. This was protection, this was fear. 

“It’s just… let me.” Crowley looked defeated, then released Aziraphale, taking the match from him and striking it. He watched the small flame for a few moments before tossing it into the fireplace. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the fire grow stronger, warmth beginning to radiate out to them.

“Crowley,” Azirphale breathed and he carefully placed a hand on Crowley’s knee. Crowley turned slowly to look at him, his golden eyes wide and warm in the firelight. “My dear.” Aziraphale raised his hand to Crowley’s cheek. Crowley leaned into the touch and sighed.

“I didn’t want you close. To the fire.” He confessed, eyes drifting back to the flames.

“ _ Oh _ .”

“It’s just - I didn’t know then. But you’re okay. Everything’s okay. Shouldn’t worry. Just… didn't want to take a chance. This place is flammable. Too much paper.” It sounded as if Crowley was talking to himself, as if he were trying to talk himself out of feeling this way, then trying to justify it. 

“Crowley, I’m so sorry. I should have thought to -” Aziraphale’s hand dropped, but Crowley caught it.

“No, s’fine. I overreacted.” His eyes were cast down, looking at their hands. He swallowed hard.

“You didn’t. Overreact.” Aziraphale used his free hand to tilt Crowley’s chin up so their eyes met. “My dear, I wasn’t here, I don’t know what it was like. I’ve never had to live in a world without you, even for a moment. But you did. I don’t know if I could.”

It was now Aziraphale’s turn to falter, his eyes dropping to stare at the shadows that danced across their clasped hands.

“You would.” Crowley nearly choked on these words, coming out as a breathless whisper, almost inaudible over the cracking of the fire.

“Perhaps. I don’t know. What I do know,” Aziraphale lifted his head to meet Crowley’s gaze, “is that all I could think about then was that I had to get back. To you. I had to talk to you, tell you about Tadfield. I had to fight for the world, for  _ us _ . I needed to save the world. To save you.”

“Angel…” Crowley raised his free hand, reaching out to Aziraphale, but froze halfway there. “I…”

“I know.” Azirphale took Crowley’s extended hand, pressed a kiss to his palm, then reached out and pulled Crowley in to rest against his chest. 

“M’sorry.” Came a voice, muffled by Aziraphale’s shirt.

“Nothing to be sorry for, my dear.” Azirphale ran his hand along Crowley’s back in comforting circles. Crowley stilled and let himself be comforted, felt the breath cause Aziraphale’s chest to rise beneath his cheek, heard the unnecessary heart beating in his chest, felt the warmth of the angel’s arms around him, heard the sound of his stomach growling. At this, Crowley threw back his head and laughed, his whole body shaking.

“After all that, you’re hungry?”

“Well,” Aziraphale huffed, “I can’t help it if I’m peckish!”

“F’course not.” Crowley smirked as he pushes himself up to his feet. “I’ll get you something.” He sauntered to the kitchen, pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight setting. They didn’t need electricity, could just miracle the lights on or the fire lit, but it really was fun to play along for a little while. He rummaged around in the cupboards for a few minutes. When he returned, arms full, he found a nest of blankets arranged on the floor next to Aziraphale, who was still seated by the fireplace, though he had moved back a bit, keeping a safe distance. 

“What did you find?” Azirpahle asked, reaching out his hands to take items as Crowley handed them to him.

“I found everything we need to make s’mores!” Crowley said as he tossed the bag of marshmallows and wooden skewers on the ground, handed Aziraphale the crackers and chocolate, and curled into the blankets. “Do you like s’mores?”

“I should think so, though I don’t recall the last time I had one.” Aziraphale wiggled happily as he began to open the packages and retrieve the contents from within.

“They’re pretty common when camping, I think.” Crowley took a skewer and handed it to Aziraphale, who stabbed it into a plump marshmallow.

“I certainly have not made a s’more while  _ camping _ , dear. I’m not a boy scout.” Aziraphale gave Crowley a playful glare as he handed him a marshmallow.

“Could’ve been, what with all the good deeds and helping old ladies cross the street.” Crowley gave Aziraphale a similar look as he stabbed his own marshmallow and thrust it toward the fire. 

“Well, then, you could have been, too. What with the Arrangement.” The corner of Azirphale’s mouth twitched up, clearly trying to hide a smirk.

“Shut up and eat your s’more!” Crowley rolled his eyes.

“I think I shall!” Aziraphale set out his graham cracker and carefully placed a square of chocolate on one side. He removed his marshmallow from the fire, squeezing it gently between his finger and thumb to be sure that it was nice and soft inside.

“Wait!” Crowley put out a hand, reaching for Azirphale’s chocolate. 

“What  _ are _ you doing?” Azirphale exclaimed.

“Trust me!” With that he took hold of the chocolate and balanced it across two skewers. He held it close to the fire for a minute, then slid it back onto the graham cracker. “It’s better when it’s a bit melty. The marshmallow will melt it some, but it’s better like this.”

“Oh, darling! That’s brilliant!” Aziraphale beamed, then finished assembling the s’more. He waited for Crowley to do the same, then lifted his, holding it out toward the demon.

“To the world?” He smiled softly.

“To us.” Crowley held up his s’more and the two toasted in the firelight.


	6. Day 6: Sleigh Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

“Let’s go out.” Crowley had pulled the armchair into the shop and was sprawled out over it, long limbs hanging off in strange angles.

“The shop is open, my dear.” Aziraphale glanced up from the counter, where he had a ledger book open, reviewing the expenses, making notes and updating as he went.

“C’mon. I’m bored.” Crowley nearly whined, throwing an arm dramatically over his face.

“Perhaps we can take a couple of hours for lunch.” Aziraphale chuckled and shook his head as he made another note in the ledger.

“You never sell anything. Could just close up now. Wouldn't make a difference.” Crowley peeked at Aziraphale from under his arm, then sighed when he saw he wouldn’t change the angel’s mind.”

“Lunch. How about 1?” Aziraphale shuffled some papers around on the counter.

“Ugh. Fine.” Crowley rolled over as best as he could in the armchair, facing away from Aziraphale. He heard the bell above the door jingle and heard a small groan from behind the counter, then a shuffling of feet and a greeting of “How can I help you?”. 

Now Crowley had an idea. If he can irritate his angel  _ just  _ enough, he might be able to convince him to close the shop early…

The customer doesn’t stay long. Most don’t, especially with the way Aziraphale hovers or watches them from over the top of a book. He just gets settled back at the counter when he hears a bell. He sighs again, then heads to the front of the shop. “Hello, how can I - hello?” Crowley can hear him moving around the shop, looking for a customer, muttering to himself. He returns to the counter and resumes his work.

About ten minutes later the tinkling of a bell is heard again. Aziraphale once again heads to the front of the shop with a friendly smile plastered on his face. 

“Hello, how can I - again? Is this some sort of prank?” He huffs as he takes a lap of the shop, to be sure no customers snuck in without his seeing. He returns to the counter and thumps the ledger book closed, grabbing a book of poems and settling in, still muttering to himself.

Crowley is fighting not to laugh. He was still facing away from Aziraphale, but he knew his angel was on edge now and would notice any movement, so he forced himself to stay perfectly still, as if he were asleep. 

Aziraphale nearly screamed the next time he heard the bell. He slammed down his book and stomped to the front. “Hello, how can I - OH FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE!!” 

Crowley couldn’t take it anymore. He burst out laughing, his whole body convulsing, throwing him off the chair and onto the floor in a tangled mess of limbs.

“And what, pray tell, is so funny?” Aziraphale was standing over him, arms crossed sternly across his chest.

Crowley couldn’t answer, but raised his hand to reveal a single, shiny, silver sleigh bell on a short cord.

“All that was _you_?” Aziraphale dropped his arms to his side, exasperated.  
“Told you I was bored! Thought we could go to lunch early instead of later. Just had to find a way to convince you!” Crowley wiped a tear from his eye and looked up at Aziraphale with a goofy grin on his face.

“I see,” Aziraphale said calmly. “Alright, we can go. But, there is a condition.” He turned away from Crowley and strode purposefully to the coat rack. 

“And what’s that?” Crowley was still laughing, softer now, as he made his way to his feet, relying heavily on the armchair for support.

“You have to wear these.” Aziraphale turned to him and held out something that made Crowley’s skin crawl.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m very serious.” Aziraphale’s features fully supported his statement. No hint of a smile, thought Crowley knew it was there, underneath his mask. Best to play along, though.

“Angel….” Crowley pleaded as he reached out his hand.

“This was all your doing. Now be a good dear and put those on.” Aziraphale grabbed his winter gear and headed to the door, leaving Crowley alone with his new items.

He emerged from the back room a few minutes later. Aziraphale could feel the glare, even from behind the dark glasses.

“I hate you.” Crowley said. He stood there in a ridiculous jumper - green and red in various awful patterns. In the middle was a horse drawn sleigh and sewn into it, miniature sleigh bells.

“You most certainly do not.” Aziraphale smiled proudly. “Now the hat, if you please.”

“ _ You most certainly do not _ ,” Crowley mocked as he slammed the hat onto his head. “We’ll see about that…” he muttered to himself.

“Oh, it’s that lovely!” Aziraphale cooed, smirk on his face. The had was a candy striped stocking cap and at the end was a large, shiny, silver sleigh bell, just like the one Crowley had used to torment him. 

“Real lovely…” Crowley tried to hit Aziraphale’s arm away, but failed and the angel successfully jingled the bell at the end of the cap. 

“Perfect! Shall we?” Aziraphale offered Crowley his arm, beaming.

“Bastard.” He reluctantly took the offered arm and the two headed out into the December cold.

With every step, Crowley jingled and jangled, earning him many looks from the passersby. Some smiled politely, others giggled and avoided his eyes, some were bolder and called out mockingly that they just loved his hat. He was turning redder with each passing moment and Aziraphale couldn’t have looked any more smug.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Why, of course! It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” Aziraphale beamed at the grey clouds overhead.

“Shut up.” Crowley rolled his eyes, but pulled himself closer to Aziraphale as a cold wind blew past.

At the restaurant, Aziraphale’s favorite sushi place, Crowley ripped his had off and stuffed it into his coat pocket as soon as they had walked through the door.

“That’s not very sporting, is it?” Aziraphale muttered, with a quick glance over at him as they were led to their table by the hostess.

“Didn’t say I had to keep it on.” Crowley said as he fell into his chair.

“I suppose I didn’t.” Azirphale conceded. “But I do so wish to see the sweater. It would be rude to keep your coat on inside, wouldn’t it?” He looked up at Crowley through his eyelashes, a smirk playing at his lips.

“If I discorporate from embarrassment, that’s on you.” Crowley shrugged off his coat, tossed it over the back of his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well, I can’t see it like that!” Aziraphale tutted. “Have some fun, dear!”

“ _ Fffffun _ . Nothing you think is fun is actually fun, you know that?” He huffed and let his arms drop to his sides, fidgeting with the tablecloth.

“Oh, that’s much better. I think it suits you.” Aziraphale glanced at him over the top of the menu, the corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile.

“Yeah, yeah…” Crowley lifted his arm to waive over a waiter, which was accompanied by a merry jingle of sleigh bells, a groan, and a giggle.


	7. Day 7: Silent Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

“Look what I found!” Azirphale bustled into the shop carrying a wooden box. He had gone out a few hours prior, to run a few errands, while Crowley had preferred to stay out of the cold. “It’s antique! Absolutely beautiful!” He carefully set the box down on the table in the back room and hurriedly removed his coat, hat, gloves, and scarf, placing them in their spots on the coat rack.

“What is it?” Crowley poked at the box, knowing Aziraphale would want to open it himself to reveal its contents.

“It’s not entirely accurate, of course, but such craftsmanship! I just couldn’t resist!” Aziraphale sat on the very front edge of the armchair and reached for the box. He opened its lid and showed Crowley the contents. Inside, nestled among felt and paper shavings were hand-painted ceramic figurines.The colors were a bit faded, but Aziraphale was right, the craftsmanship was incredible.Crowley carefully removed one of the figures for a closer inspection.

“It’s it lovely?” Aziraphale’s eyes were glowing with fondness. 

“Very nice, angel. Where are we putting it?” Crowley smiled gently at Aziraphale, who was so easily excitable, who took so much joy from small worldly items.

“Well, I hadn’t exactly picked a spot.” He stood as his eyes swept over the shop, on a mission to find the perfect place for his new treasure. “Perhaps in the front window? Or by the religious texts? We can put a table up and display it there. Oh! But what if someone bumps into it and breaks one of the pieces!” He turned back to Crowley. “It would be a tragedy to break up this set!” He flopped, defeated, back into the armchair. “What do you think, my dear?”

“I think that if you put it in the shop, you’d never see it.” He stood and picked up the stable structure and walked over to the fireplace, placing it gently on top of the mantel. “Here, you’ll be able to enjoy it.”

Aziraphale joined him by the fireplace, wrapping his arms around Crowley’s waist.

“Perfect. You always know just what I need.” He smiled against Crowley’s shoulder.

“I try.” He placed a hand over Aziraphale’s. “Now let’s get this set up.”

“No, no, no! The shepherds came in from the west, not the east. And the kings were definitely not there. We’ll have to put them elsewhere.”

“You said yourself - it’s not historically accurate. More about the symbolism, isn’t it?” Crowley rolled his eyes, but moved the shepherds anyway, carefully laying out the sheet around them.

“Well, the humans weren’t actually there. I mean, they were, just not _ these _humans, so they hardly know any better. We do know better.”

Crowley chuckled.

“Were you there?” Azirphale had stilled, staring at the baby Jesus in the manger, carefully cradled in his hands.

“Nah. I was in the area, saw the star, but I didn’t want to cause a scene. Demon showing up at the birth of God’s son? Too much excitement for a newborn.”

“I didn’t see you. Of course, I was working. Wouldn't have had time to say hello if I had seen you.”

“Were you…?” Crowley gestured to the angel figure, still in the box.

“Oh no. That was saved for the more important angels. I was on the ground, Might have led them to the inn and helped with the delivery. They were such a nice young couple. So scared, but so brave.” Aziraphale’s eyes drifted, lost in the memory.

“So, no singing for you, then?”

“What?” Aziraphale shook his head, breaking back into the present.

“You weren’t one of the heavenly hosts singing?”  
“Uh, well. I don’t think they really sang, my dear.” Azirphale furrowed his brow slightly, thinking. “The songs like to say so, but the angels chosen were some of the best warriors in heaven. I can’t really see them showing up to the shepherds and breaking out into song. Although I wasn’t actually there to witness it, so I suppose it could have happened.”

“Huh. No singing.” Crowley sat back, looking at their work so far. Aziraphale placed the manger into the center of the stable, then sat back as well. Mary and Joseph were looking down on the baby. The shepherds and their sheep were now arriving from the _ correct _direction and the wise men were nowhere to be seen. (They would later be moved closer to the scene as humans did on the twelve days after Christmas.)

“Of course, this piece doesn’t look at all right, but isn’t it sweet how humans like to make us so beautiful?” He held the angel figure out to Crowley. It _ was _beautiful. The long white robe rippled, as if blown by a breeze, gold lined the collar and cuffs, the waist pulled in with a gold cord. The long blonde hair hung in loose curls, falling over the shoulders and the face was smiling kindly down with blue eyes. The wings were outstretched, incredible in the detailing of each white feather, as were the arms - open, inviting all of humanity to share in the joy of that first Christmas.

“No halo.” Crowley observed.

“No?” Aziraphale looked again. “No halo.”

Crowley handed the figure back and Aziraphale lovingly fixed it to the top of the stable, where it could look down on the scene from above.

“I don’t think they got it so wrong.” Crowley said, looking at the scene with his head cocked to one side.

“Oh?” Aziraphale asked, mirroring Crowley.

“White wings, blonde curls, blue eyes? Doesn’t sound so off to me.” 

“I told you, I wasn’t even there!” Aziraphale reminded him. 

“Yeah you were. You were where you were needed most. You were there.” Crowley raised one long finger and pointed to the center of the scene, to the mother and father watching over their child. Crowley could see it in his mind - Aziraphale holding Mary as he helped her lie down on the bed of hay and blankets, holding her hand, guiding her through the birth, congratulating Joseph, looking into the eyes of the baby Jesus and smiling that radiant smile. “No other angel could have comforted her and no other angel was actually there, in the midst of it, no other angel helped deliver the baby. Just you.”

Aziraphale was silent, staring wide-eyed at the nativity scene.  
“Seems to me like that was a pretty damn important job. Not as much recognition, but then again..” Crowley stared at the angel figure. Not as soft as his angel, the hair was a shade too dark, and it was missing those lovely creases around the eyes, but there was a striking resemblance.

“I… I never thought of it like that.” Azirphale said softly. “I was just doing my job. They didn’t seem to think it was as important as the…” he gestured to the figure.

“Just another example of Heaven missing the point.” He wrapped an arm around Aziraphale’s waist, pulling him to his side.

“I did sing.” Aziraphale whispered.

“Did you?” Crowley laid his head against the angel’s.

“A lullaby. It wasn’t much, but he was so beautiful. It helped calm his parents. They were so weary from their journey. It must have been so hard for her to make it while pregnant. So, when the delivery was done, I sang a lullaby to help them all sleep.”  
“What song?”

“I can’t recall. I suppose if Silent Night had been around them I would have chosen that.”  
“Doesn’t seem like it was a very silent night,” Crowley chuckled.

“It was after.”

“After you sang?”

“Yes.”

The two sat in silence, staring at the scene and remembering the real one. They were so still and so quiet, lost in their own thoughts, but breathing together, sharing. 

Aziraphale began to hum. Crowley could feel it vibrate through him, a sensation both peaceful and hopeful. When he began to put words to the melody, Crowley held him just a bit tighter. His voice was soft and warm, endlessly comforting and full of the purest love.

_ Silent night, holy night,   
_ _All is calm, all is bright  
_ _Round yon virgin mother and child  
_ _Holy infant so tender and mild  
_ _Sleep in heavenly peace  
_ _Sleep in heavenly peace_

_ Silent night, holy night  
_ _Son of God, love's pure light  
_ _Radiant beams from Thy holy face  
_ _With dawn of redeeming grace  
_ _Jesus Lord, at Thy birth  
_ _Jesus Lord, at Thy birth_


	8. Day 8: Choir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

It was dark and the streets were lined with thousands of twinkle lights shining from every available surface - streetlights, store fronts, even the traffic lights seemed to twinkle with a festive glow. 

Two figures walked hand in hand, enjoying the soft glow of the lights as it shimmered and sparkled off the decorations of red, green, gold, and silver that filled every window and doorway.

Above the sounds of London traffic floated static-tinged Christmas music from shop radios, muffled holiday songs from behind doors closed against the chill, and laughter that seemed contagious. It seemed that everyone was in high spirits, the joy of the upcoming holidays blanketing the streets of soho with a spirit of giving. Old friends greeted each other with hugs, young folks whooped and called to each other from across the street, couples smiled as they carried bags of gifts in one hand, their other hands clasped between them. It was a lovely scene. 

Aziraphale hardly seemed to be able to contain his glow. The love that surrounded them almost overwhelmed him, but it was too wonderful to truly do so.

“Happy, angel?” Crowley’s eyes were soft as he glanced at his partner from behind his glasses.

“Very much so, my dear,” Aziraphale sighed, a dreamy smile on his face. 

“Good.” Crowley squeezed his hand slightly. “Ready to turn in, or should we keep walking?” 

They had stopped on a corner, among a group of people waiting to cross. The bookshop was just down the street, but there were plenty of shops they had not yet stopped at to admire their decorations.

“I do believe I’d like to walk on for a while longer, if that’s okay with you.” Aziraphale’s eyes were scanning the roads extending from the intersection.

“Okay with me.” 

“It’s not too cold for you?” Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, eyes glittering.

“Not too cold. Promise.” Crowley assured as Aziraphale looked about to protest. He simply closed his mouth and smiled softly.

“Let’s to this way.” He led crowley through the mass of people to a street as of yet unexplored. 

The two wandered slowly, comparing notes on the decorations. Aziraphale enjoyed be traditional decor, while Crowley seemed to enjoy the newer, more contemporary designs. They laughed and teased and pulled each other close every chance they got.

“Think they were drunk when they did this, eh? It’s all crooked cattywampus!” He laughed, pointing to a tree that did indeed seem to be tipping dangerously to one side.

Aziraphale doesn’t respond.

“Angel?” Crowley looks at him, concerned. “What is it?” His eyes dart about the street, looking for any glimpse of trouble.

“Don’t you hear it?” Aziraphale doesn’t look at him, just pulls his hand, leading them down the street. He doesn’t speak and he doesn’t stop until they’ve reached the sidewalk in front of a small, stone church. It wasn’t particularly impressive, but it had tall stained glass windows that depicted Jesus, arms open wide, surrounded by disciples children, and sheep. On the right, in the background stood a cross, on the right stood a tree with a single red fruit hanging from its branches. The sound of an organ wafts down the pathway, playing the closing strains of _ The First Noel _.

“Lovely.” Aziraphale sighed.

“Go in.” Crowley nudged him.

“What? No!” Aziraphale’s brow furrowed.

“Why not? Just go sit in the back and listen to the music.” Crowley released his hand and shuffled a half step away.

“I don’t need to go in. Oh!” Aziraphale snapped his attention back to the church as the organ began anew. After two measure there was a swell of voices as a choir joined in. 

_   
_ _ Joy to the world the lord is come _

_ Let earth receive her king _   
  


“A choir!” Aziraphale breathed, eyes wide.

“Go _ in _, angel.” Crowley nudged him forward a step.

The soprano voices were bright and clear as they swam over the alto’s strong harmony. The tenors and basses weaved their way through the tapestry of sound, creating a piece in bright colors and beautiful patterns. The result was a big, round, warm sound that seemed to wrap them up in a hug, a smiling kind of sound.

“No, I’m fine here.” Aziraphale smiled, his blue eyes bright.

“No you’re not.” Crowley cocked his hip, trying not to be annoyed with his stubborn angel.

“I’m sure it would be far too loud in there. It’s just perfect right here.” Aziraphale responded, but his attention was still on the church.

“No it’s not. Just go.” Crowley moved to push Aziraphale, but the angel grabbed his hand.

“I’m not going.” His eyes flashed with something too quick for Crowley to identify - anger? Sadness?

“Why?” Crowley stepped closer, softening.

“I’d prefer to stay here. With you.” He was looking down, ashamed of his outburst.

“Oh.” Crowley dropped his hand.

“It’s lovely, of course, but it’s more lovely to enjoy it with you”

“I could go in, ‘ve done it before.” Crowley shrugged. 

“I know, dearest.” Aziraphale removed his glove and took his hand. “But you shouldn’t have to go through that again. It shouldn’t even be a problem..”

Crowley looked at him above his glasses, golden eyes wide. Every so often Aziraphale said something like this, something that made Crowley’s heart stop for a moment. It was always overwhelming when the angel put into words his unending belief that Crowley was too good for Hell, that he should never have fallen.

“Well, what I mean is, I would never ask that of you.” Aziraphale said hurriedly, blushing, returning his attention to the church, and steering the conversation away from the heavy topic. He knew they both needed to keep things light tonight. “Besides, we’re not missing anything from out here. The view is quite perfect, don’t you think?” His eyes drifted from the tree glowing from the window to his partner.

Crowley stepped closer and wrapped his arm around Aziraphale’s waist. “Perfect.” He placed a quick kiss to the angel’s forehead as the opening measures of “O Holy Night” burst into the stillness.


	9. Day 9: Chestnuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

_ Chestnuts roasting on an open fire  
_ _Jack Frost nipping at your nose_

The velvet voice of Nat King Cole crooned through the speakers. The market was bustling, full of shoppers looking for the perfect gifts for friends and family. Someone was bargaining with a seller over a book that they claimed was priced far above it’s value. Beside them, a blonde chuckled to himself, blue eyes sweeping over the other titles on the table. 

“Hmm,” he mused. “Nothing here I don’t already have and have a first edition of. Or,” he pushed aside a few books, “does not belong in my library...er, shop.” He glanced around, checking to see if anyone recognized him. No one did, far too busy going through the lists in their heads and browsing the seemingly endless amount of items available for purchase.

“Smooth,” said a voice as a long, lean shape leaned against the table next to Aziraphale.

“Oh hush, dear,” he shook his head, sparing a quick glance at his companion before returning his attention to the books.

“No, no, it really was. You should be a spy. Very inconspicuous.” Crowley picked up a book, opened it, and held it up to his face, his eyes casting shifty looks above it.

“Really, now.” Aziraphale huffed and took the book, placing it carefully down on the pile in front of him. “Why don’t you go look at what’s next door?”

“Already did. Nothing good.” Crowley leaned his head back in a posture of exhaustion. 

“Just a few more minutes, my dear.” Aziraphale placed a hand on Crowley’s arm. “Thank you for being so patient.”

“Not patient.” Crowley muttered as Aziraphale crossed to the other side of the table. 

“Of course not. My mistake,” Aziraphale chuckled again, making one last look through the books before offering his arm. “Ready?”

“‘Bout time.” Crowley pushed himself up with a feigned nonchalance to hide the brightness that lit up his features. He threaded his arm through Aziraphale’s, sliding as close as possible. It was cold, after all. 

“I do appreciate you being… you waiting for me.” Aziraphale led them, weaving through the crowd. “Are you sure there’s nothing you’d like to peruse?”

“No, angel. There’s nothing I’d like to _ peruse _,” Crowley teased as they continued on their way.

“Oh, Crowley! Hot cocoa!” Azirphale pulled a sharp turn and stopped short in front of a vendor with a festive sign boasting the best hot cocoa in London. “Do you mind?”

“‘F’course not. Two,” he said to the girl behind the counter. “Want peppermint?” he asked, noticing the sign listing their flavor options.

“Oh, yes! That does sound divine!” Aziraphale wiggled happily. 

“Make one of ’em peppermint.” Crowley corrected the order and the girl nodded, the jingle bell on her hat ringing merrily.

“Thank you, dear!” Aziraphale moved closer to view the holiday cookies wrapped in individual bags, decorated with vibrant colors and intricate patterns. “We really should try this sometime!” 

“What? Eating cookies? I’ll get you whatever you want.” Crowley said plainly and Aziraphale nearly blushed. Crowley always did whatever Aziraphale wanted, always made sure his needs were met, spoiled him to no end and it made Aziraphale’s heart beat just a bit faster.

“No, dear. Thank you. I meant decorating cookies. They’re so beautiful and I’d like to try!”

“Oh. Alright, angel. We’ll do that.” Crowley took the hot chocolates, tossing the payment down on the counter.

“Thank you so much, dear! And happy holidays!” Aziraphale beamed at the girl behind the counter, who gave a sweet wave as they left.

“Here, drink.” Crowley handed the hot cocoa to his partner, who took it with a happy bounce as they walked. Aziraphale took a sip and hummed in delight, which continued in a familiar melody.

“D’you think people really do that?” Crowley asked.

“Do what?”

“Roast chestnuts.”

Aziraphale stared blankly.

“You were humming. The song with the chestnuts.” He explained, smirking.

“Ah, I didn’t realize I was humming. And I don’t know. Maybe we should! We can pick up the supplies on our way back to the shop! It can’t be that hard, right? Especially not for two eth… for us!” Aziraphale’s blue eyes shimmered with excitement.

“Angeeeel,” Crowley sighed, throwing his head back dramatically. 

“We don’t have to, dear.” Aziraphale rushed to say. “It’s just a silly idea. No worries! What would you like to do? I have a lovely wine back at the book shop, we could have some and do something of your choosing!”

“No, chestnuts sounds fine.” Crowley still sounded unenthused as they crossed out of the market and onto the street. It was busy, but, compared to the bustle of the market, seemed almost peaceful. Aziraphale pulled Crowley into an alcove.

“Dear, please talk to me.” His blue eyes burned bright with worry. 

“Nothing to say,” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Everything’s fine.” He tried to reassure.

“Darling…” Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s arm just a little.

Crowley swallowed hard. “S’just…. I love that you’re enjoying yourself doing all these human things. I know it was all my idea, too. I just, m’tired.” His eyes were fixed on his shoes.

“Oh, Crowley. Why didn’t you say something sooner? I could have come here on my own and you could have stayed in and slept!” Aziraphale drew Crowley into his arms. “I feel terrible!”

“No, don’t. Don’t feel bad, I don’t want to ruin this for you,” said a muffled voice.

“My dear, I don’t want you to feel obligated to do all these things with me! Of course, I love having you there with me, but,” he laid a hand on Crowley’s cheek tenderly, “please don’t force yourself to do anything because of me. I know that winters are hard on you. Please, tell me what you need. Always. No matter what.” He pressed their foreheads together. 

“You’re going to keep lecturing me until I do, right?” Crowley joked through the tears he was fighting back.

“I’m afraid so.” Aziraphale chuckled.

“Alright. Here’s what we should do.” He took a breath and stepped back just enough to look at his angel. “Let’s make your chestnuts, then we’re going to call it an early night. We’re going to snugg… sleep.” His glasses had slipped down his nose and his yellow eyes swam with uncertainty, still getting used to being open with someone.

“That sounds just perfect.” Aziraphale pressed a kiss to Crowley’s forehead. “You’re sure you don’t mind the chestnuts? It can wait.”

“M’sure.” Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand and led him toward the closest store.

Once the supplies had been gathered, the two returned to the shop. Crowley started the fire while Aziraphale set about washing and scoring the nuts. He placed them into the pan with care and carried it over to the fireplace, joining Crowley on the floor.

“All set?” he asked, his glasses now folded up on the table.

“All set!” Aziraphale handed over the pan and Crowley leaned forward, setting it on top of the glowing coals. 

“How long?” he asked, leaning his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“Not long.” Aziraphale wrapped his arms around his partner. “This could have waited.”

“I know. But I wanted to do it with you. Wanted to make sure you didn’t do it on your own while I was sleeping.” He shrugged and nuzzled closer to Aziraphale’s warmth.

“Oh, my dear. We will have to work on you using your words.”

“I use words.” Crowley huffed.

“You know what I mean. I think it’s time to turn them.” He leaned forward slowly and gently flipped the chestnuts. He settled back down.

“I’m glad we did this.” Crowley said, yawning.

“Are you?” Aziraphale pulled him close again.

“I really am, angel.”

They sat quietly until the chestnuts were ready to eat. They had cooled and been peeled and Aziraphale held one out to Crowley, who leaned forward and ate it from his hand to avoid removing his arms from around his angel’s waist.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale giggled.

“These are actually pretty good.” Crowley drawled sleepily. 

“You’re surprised,” Aziraphale teased. “Is it because it’s food or because we made it?”

“Mmm… both.”

“Go get comfortable, dear. I’ll be there as soon as I clean up.” Aziraphale tried to move, but was held down by his demon.

“Warm…” he muttered against Aziraphale’s chest.

“Just one minute.” Aziraphale wriggled out of Crowley’s grasp. “Promise.”

Crowley sluggishly moved to the couch. He snapped his fingers and suddenly the couch was suddenly wide enough for three people and had two times the pillows.

Aziraphale tutted when he saw the changes. “Really, dear?”

“Comfy.” Crowley patted the couch beside him.

“Sleep well, dearest.” He pressed a kiss to Crowley’s forehead as he drifted off to sleep.


	10. Day 10: Silver and Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

“Tree’s already green, angel,” Crowley pointed out. “Don’t need more green.”

“Fine,” Aziraphale huffed, smiling. “Can we have red, then?”

“Don’t mind red,” Crowley browsed the plastic tubs full of ornaments of all colors and designs. “These all look… cheap.” He complained, pulling his glasses down just a bit in order to take a closer look.

“We can keep looking, dear.” Aziraphale shook his head, a soft smile on his face. “Would it be better if we go pick out the tree first? Maybe we will find the right decorations once we’ve found our tree.” Aziraphale suggested, stepping toward Crowley, who blushed.

_ Our  _ tree.

He pushed his glasses back up his nose and straightened up, grabbing Aziraphale’s hand. “Sure, let’s do that.” He spun on his heel and nearly dragged his angel along after him.

“Slow down, Crowley!” Aziraphale’s free hand flew up to keep his hat on his head as he was jostled through the crowd of people. “I didn’t know it was possible to feel like we’re speeding, but without being in the Bentley!” He nearly slipped on a patch of ice on the sidewalk, but Crowley pulled him hard, wrapping up in his arms and pulling him out of the way of a group of children running ahead of an adult yelling for them to stop. She shot apologetic glances at the parted crowds as she passed, muttering something about too many holiday treats and break can’t come soon enough.

“Sorry, got… carried away.” Crowley shifted his back away from the wall behind him.

“It’s okay to say excited, dear.” Aziraphale smiled as he adjusted his hat, looking up at Crowley with that soft expression that definitely did not make the demon feel anything.

“Excited? M’not excited. I don’t get excited.” Crowley scanned the walkway before pulling Aziraphale along again, slower this time.

“Of course not,” Aziraphale let himself be pulled along until they stopped in front of the tree lot. “Now, you’re the one who knows plants, so I want you to decide which tree will be ours.” His eyes swept over the lot, full of lovely trees, knowing that he would never be able to choose, but Crowley would find the perfect one.

“Nkg. One perfect tree coming up.” Crowley shoved his hands into his pockets and began to stalk past some of the trees.

“Crowley, dear?” Aziraphale called, trailing a few steps behind him.

“Yeah?” Crowley called, glaring at a tree that began to tremble.

“Please don’t intimidate them. I would prefer a happy tree.” Aziraphale reached out and stroked the trembling tree and it seemed to sigh in relief.

“Angel…” Crowley began, turning to look at Aziraphale’s face, then stopped. He had assumed the pose - the one where he crossed his arms and tapped one foot, his face set in a stern expression that really wasn’t stern at all, mostly just adorable. “Fine,” Crowley sighed and returned to the mission at hand.

Aziraphale took his time cooing over the trees, encouraging them to stay green and not lose any needles for the families that would bring them home. 

“FOUND IT!” a voice called and Aziraphale headed in it’s direction. “Angel! Over here!” The voice nearly vibrated with excitement and something else, maybe pride?

“OH!” Aziraphale gasped. It truly was the perfect tree. Just the right size for the bookshop, the most beautiful green, no gaps, full and round and lovely. “Darling…” he trails off, admiring the tree. 

“Like it?” Crowley cocked his hip and placed a hand on it, admiring his find.

“Yes.” Aziraphale breathed.

As they carried their tree back to the bookshop, they argued more about ornaments. 

“Fine, we don’t need red ornaments, but how about poinsettias? Or bows?”

“Bows?” Crowley grimaced.

“Something red, please!” Aziraphale begged, looking into a shop window at the beautiful red decorations.

“Yes, and no black ornaments. Promise me.” Aziraphale glanced over at his partner.

“Fine. No red, no green, no black. What is left?” Crowley readjusted the tree in his arms.

“Silver and gold are rather lovely.” Aziraphale gestured to a small tree in the shop that glittered with silver and gold bulbs, simple in design, but stunning when reflecting the twinkling lights.

“That’s really not bad.” Crowley leaned in to look over his glasses.

“You think so?” Aziraphale bounced on his toes.

“Go get ‘em, angel.” He tossed his head towards the door and Aziraphale took off. 

In a matter of minutes he was back at Crowley’s side.

“Got ‘em?” He asked, pushing himself away from the wall he was lounging against.

“Yes. And a surprise, too,” He said, beaming. He held out his free hand and Crowley took it.

“What kind of surprise?” Crowley craned his head to try and get a peek of what was hiding inside the bag.

“You’ll find out tomorrow!” Aziraphale pushed his elbow gently into Crowley’s side.

“Sneaky angel,” he chuckled.

When they arrived back at the bookshop Azirphale carefully removed one tub of ornaments and stowed the bag in a place that Crowley promised he wouldn’t go.

“Wait, I thought were were decorating this tomorrow?” Crowley said as he finished setting up the tree in the center of the bookshop.

“We are.” Aziraphale admired the tree.

“Then what’re those for?” Crowley pointed to the ornaments on the counter.

“Oh! I thought we could hang them around the shop, too! Want to help?” Aziraphale looked carefully at Crowley, gauging his expression.

“Sure, angel.” He sauntered over, opened the lid of the ornament tub and handed one to Aziraphale. “Let’s make this place sparkle.” He pressed a quick kiss to the angel’s cheek and began to place the ornaments strategically around the shop. 

Aziraphale stood and watched him, a goofy grin on his face.

“Are you going to help or just stare?” Crowley winked at him. “And good call. Silver and gold. Looks good in here.”


	11. Day 11: Pine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

“Wake up, dear.” Aziraphale nudged Crowley, who was sprawled out on the couch, long limbs tangled in a tartan blanket.

“Mffguh!” Crowley flopped over, trying to slide out of the blanket, but instead, making matters worse. “Help?” he looked sleepily up at Aziraphale.

“Of course, dear.” Aziraphale chuckled and helped Crowley out of the blanket and into his arms. “I’m sorry to wake you, but I do believe you wanted to help trim the tree.”

“Mmhmm,” Crowley rubbed his eyes, letting them adjust to the brightness of the room.

“Would you like coffee?” Aziraphale asked, rubbing his hand absentmindedly up and down Crowley’s arm.

“Mmhmm,” Crowley nodded, then sat up, allowing Aziraphale to move. “Angel.”

Aziraphale stopped and looked at Crowley, who leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“G’morning.” 

“Good morning, dearest.” Azirphale gave him one of his softest smiles and pressed a kiss of his own to his partner’s cheek. “Be back in a tick!” He stood and bustled away to prepare the coffee.

Crowley looked around and realized that Aziraphlae must have been busy for hours while he slept. He stood and walked into the shop, eyes wide. There were what seemed like a million white lights hung all around the shop, some steady on, while others blinked merrily against the ornaments and garlands that they had already put out. He walked slowly in a circle, taking it all in. He couldn’t believe how the lights changed the space. It had been dim, cosy, and dusty, but now it glowed and shimmered like a sky full of stars.

“How many?” He called, unable to take his eyes away from the glow and twinkle.

“Lights? I lost count, I’m afraid. But somewhere upwards of 2000 I should think.”

Aziraphale handed Crowley his coffee and admire his work over his own cup of tea.

“2000?” Crowley repeated. “How long did it take? Or did you…” he gestured vaguely.

“All by hand, no miracles! And it did take quite a while, but you were asleep and I was too distracted to read. I was afraid if I didn’t do something I would trim the tree without you, and I didn’t want to do that. I’m ever so pleased with how it came out. It’s quite charming, don’t you think?”

“S’nice,” Crowley said, still staring at the lights.

“Nice?” Aziraphale smirked.

“Yes, angel.  _ Nice _ ,” Crowley faked a grimace, then faced his partner. “So, where do we

start?”

“I hope you don’t mind too terribly, but I’ve already started with the lights,” Aziraphale looked down. “I’m sorry. I got a bit carried away, but I did stop myself before it was done!.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” He pressed a quick kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead as he stepped past him, stooping to plug in the lights that were on the tree. He stood up and cocked his head to one side, assessing. 

“Did I do too much? Oh, I’m so sorry! You looked so peaceful and I didn’t want to wake you!” He began to pace, hands wringing, eyes avoiding Crowley’s. “At first I thought it would be a nice surprise for you to wake up to the lights, but as I worked I realized that we were supposed to do it together and you’re the one who picked out the tree and maybe you should be the one to be doing it and…” He was cut off by an arm around his waist, pulling him into a kiss. He sighed into it, relieved that Crowley was not upset.

“It was a  _ nice  _ thought,” Crowley winked at him. “How ‘bout this? You’ve already done enough for now.” He glanced around the room again, still impressed. “Why don’t you pop out and get us some festive tree-trimming snacks and I’ll finish up these lights.”

“Oh! That does sound rather good.” Aziraphale pressed a kiss to the tip of Crowley’s nose and bustled off to wrap himself in his winter gear. “I won’t be long. Anything in particular you’d like me to bring back?”’

“Nah, whatever you get is good for me.” He watched as Aziraphale waddled to the door in his oversized boots. “Take your time, angel,” he paused, then added “have fun.”

Aziraphale froze with his hand on the doorknob, his eyes glowing with adoration. “You, too, dear.” He turned to go, then thought better of it. “Oh, and do be kind to the tree. It’s such a lovely thing.”

“Alriiiiight,” Crowley nudged Aziraphale out the door with a reassuring grin, then closed the door behind him. “Okay, tree.” He spun on his heel and circled the poor pine. “He says I have to be nice, so I’ll be nice. Just know that if you lose even one needle or disappoint him in any way, you  _ will  _ have to answer to me. It’s your choice.” The tree didn’t seem to be afraid, but accepted the terms and was happy to oblige. “But for now, let’s just try to get along.”

Crowley began to wrap lights, working methodically, making sure there wouldn’t be any gaps or bunching. He gently suggested certain branches move and they complied, seemingly happy to do so, sometimes even moving before having to be asked.

“You’ve got to be the damn happiest tree in history. What exactly did he say to you this morning?” He muttered as he balanced on the ladder, winding the lights around the top. The tree just shivered slightly, as if laughing. “M’gonna have to talk to him about this. Sometimes he’s just too soft.” Crowley chuckled to himself as he crawled down the ladder and folded it up. “There. That should do it.” He set the ladder against the nearest bookshelf, keeping it close at hand for when it would be needed for ornament hanging. 

Just then a chill wind blew in as the shop door opened. Crowley could barely see Aziraphale, piled high with paper bags full of goodies. He took one step and nearly toppled over.

“Angel!” Crowley ran to his side and grabbed a bag with one arm, wrapping the other around Aziraphale’s shoulders to steady him.

“Oh, thank you! I suppose it’s a bit much, but I do so want today to be special!” He beamed up at Crowley, curling into his side as much as he could.

“Let’s get this all inside,” Crowley said, guiding Aziraphale into the shop and kicking the door shut behind them. Aziraphale set his bags down on a table that wasn’t there five minutes ago, then returned to take Crowley’s.

“See what I mean? Sometimes he’s too soft,” Crowley muttered to the tree.

“What, dear?” Aziraphale had begun unpacking the bags, sorting through the treats.

“Nothing. What’cha got there?” Crowley looked over the angel’s shoulder.

“This isn’t all for now. I picked up some things for dinner. Thought we’d cook in tonight. Is that okay?” He was checking in more now, making sure he gave Crowley as many chances as possible to voice his wants and needs.

“Okay,” he assured him, assisting in putting items out of the bags and trying to organize them as best he could, given Aziraphale’s nonsensical organizing system. 

Aziraphale set out all the snacks - biscuits, pastries, mince pies, a gourmet cheese and cracker platter, and of course, bottles of spiced holiday wine.

The two carried glasses in hand as they moved around the tree hanging ornaments. Crowley snapped his fingers and Aziraphale’s gramophone suddenly had a bluetooth connection, from which Crowley began to play Christmas music. Aziraphale was shocked at this festive choice of traditional arrangements, but didn’t say anything. He knew Crowley wouldn’t admit to liking them, so he just pretended it was all for him instead.

The two practically danced around the tree, and each other, as they searched for the perfect places to hang their ornaments. Aziraphale sang along to the music, joyful and sweet, and Crowley claimed he did  _ not  _ sing, but hummed along, failing to hide a smile. Aziraphale balanced a plate on his forearm as he shuffled around the tree, crumbs falling everywhere as he did so. He chattered away in all the moments he wasn’t singing or eating, sometimes talking with a full mouth, which was not something he usually did. Crowley just chuckled to himself, soaking up how much the angel was enjoying himself, occasionally tripping over his own feet in his excitement.

“Is this the last one?” Aziraphale held up a gold bulb that reflected his blue eyes and even a hint of a halo around his head.

“Looks like it. Where do you want it?” Crowley was atop the ladder again, his elbow resting on the top, hip supporting him as he turned to see Aziraphale

“Hmm…” Aziraphale carefully carried the ornament as he inspected the tree. “Yes! I think just there.” He pointed to a spot within Crowley’s reach that did seem a bit void of festive beauty.

“Alright.” Crowley reached down and took the ornament from Aziraphale and placed it carefully into the spot that had been appointed. “That good?” 

“Perfect!” Aziraphale wiggled. “Now get down here!”

Crowley slithered down the ladder and stood by Aziraphale’s side, looking at the tree. It was now dark outside, having spent all day decorating, and Crowley used it to his advantage. He wrapped one arm around Aziraphale’s waist and with the other hand he snapped, turning off all the lights in the bookshop, save for the strands of holiday lights.

“ _ Oh _ !” Aziraphale breathed as the tree glittered and gleamed. Crowley had snuck colored lights onto the tree while Aziraphale had been out and he was so glad he did. The way the lights were reflected by the gold and silver ornaments created a dazzling rainbow. The white lights hung around the shop also shimmered and against the ornaments. Together, the effect was that of a supernova, an explosion of color and light, or maybe kaleidoscope was more fitting, as the colors shifted and changed as the angel moved around the space, taking it all in. “It’s heavenly. It’s better than heaven.”

“Sure is.”

“OH! Wait!” Aziraphale froze, then bustled into action, pulling out the bag that he had hidden the day before. “Close your eyes!”

“Why?” Crowley asked, stepping toward Aziraphale, hands out to help, if needed.

“Close your eyes!” Aziraphale waved his hand and a blindfold appeared over Crowley’s eyes.

“Really, angel?” Crowley crossed his arms, but didn’t remove the blindfold.

“Just wait there for a moment, if you would.” 

Crowley could hear Aziraphale remove something from its packaging and then it sounded as though he were climbing up the ladder.

“Aziraphale? What are you doing?” He turned to face the direction of the sounds.

“Don’t worry, dear. I can handle this.” He sounded pleased and excited.

“Be careful,” Crowley resigned to play the game.

After a few minutes of Aziraphale muttering to himself, Crowlye heard him carefully tread back down the ladder and come to Crowley’s side.

“Alright, dear. You can look now.” He removed the blindfold and took Crowley’s hand.

He looked up to see a star atop the tree. It was beautiful. Iridescent white with silver trim around each peak. In the middle was something that looked like a yin-yang, white and black swirling together to one whole. Crowley stepped closer, let his eyes adjust to the light, and realized that they were small feathers, curled around each other.

“Angel…” Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand.

“I may have added that bit at the center. I wanted something that represented us. Our side.” Aziraphale said softly.

“It’s… perfect.” Crowley turned and fully embraced Aziraphale, overcome by the gesture. He leaned his head down and captured Aziraphale’s surprised lips in a kiss.


	12. Day 12: Caroling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

“Oi! Watch it!” Crowley reeled back for a moment, then righted himself. He glared at a couple of teen boys, who ran, terrified, from the man with snake eyes, then pushed his glasses back onto his face and brushed the snow from his shoulder.

“They were just having fun, dear.” Aziraphale tutted good-naturedly.

“They were just being pains in the ass.” Crowley shoved his hands into his pockets.

The two were strolling through the park and the sky was trying its best to be cheerful above, but it wasn’t quite succeeding.

“I thought you were in favor of that.” Aziraphale gave Crowley a playful glance out of the corner of his eye, eyebrow raised.

“Well… yeah, but not with me as the target.” Crowley grimaced as another snowball flew by, not close enough to really be worried about, but he did anyway. “S’cold,” he shivered.

“Oh, dear,” Aziraphale stopped, brushing more snow off of Crowley’s collar. “Did it get in there?” He dipped his hand in and warmed Crowley’s skin, just briefly, then adjusted Crowley’s scarf to cover the exposed skin. Crowley was blushing at the contact.

“Thanks,” he murmured, ducking his head further into his scarf.

“You’re quite welcome.” Aziraphale’s voice was steady, but if his cheeks were growing pink, no one commented. “Do you hear that?” His head turned toward something, tilting softly to one side, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Yeah,” Crowley followed Aziraphale’s gaze and tipped his glasses down to see where the sound was coming from, but it didn’t help. “Let’s go see what it is.” He had his hands in his pockets, but offered his elbow to Aziraphale, who took it happily.

“It sounds like a children’s choir - so sweet.” Aziraphale cooed as they walked closer to the source of the sound - indeed a sweet sound, but a bit rough around the edges. Some children were overexcited and sang too fast or slightly out of tune, more interested in waving to parents or watching the teens run by than in looking at their director, whose arms were working frantically to regain their attention while her eyes were nearly bulging out of her head and her jaw was working overtime to mouth the words to her singers.

Aziraphale and Crowley stopped in the crowd just as they had finished singing their rendition of “Jingle Bells” and joined in the smattering of applause. The director wasted no time and quickly moved the kids on to the next song before they could become distracted.

_   
_ _ Frosty the snowman   
_ _ Was a jolly happy soul _

“Oh Crowley, aren’t they doing so well?” Aziraphale beamed at them. Joy and innocence rolled off the small group of children in waves. Crowley smiled, despite himself. They really were adorable and he’d always had a bit of a soft spot for kids. They weren’t really good or evil, not yet, they were mostly just silly, full of dumb ideas, unaware of consequences, and asked a million questions. 

“They’re alright.” He glanced down at Aziraphale for a moment and when he looked back up he saw trouble.

The kids were just half shouting the final syllables of the song when Crowley saw the teens approaching from the far side. They looked as if they had a plan. Crowley pulled his hands from his pockets, causing Aziraphale’s arm to drop. Aziraphale looked at Crowley with a puzzled expression, but followed his gaze to the approaching hooligans.

“Oh dear…” he whispered.

“Yup.” Crowley’s body was tense, ready for them to try anything. He stalked away from Aziraphale, ducking through the crowd so as not to be seen. He moved quickly, but not quickly enough. Just as the small crowd started to applaud, snowballs flew. The teens were howling in laughter and dipping down to roll more snowballs when suddenly Crowley was there. He grabbed two by the arms and pulled them forward, falling face first into the snow. Two left - one was already running away, the other stood frozen, staring at Crowley’s eyes. He hissed at this one, letting his forked tongue slide out just a little, and he followed after his friend. Crowley knelt, grabbed two handfuls of snow, aimed, and threw them in quick succession, each hitting its target square in the back. By this point, the first two were scrambling up and running in the opposite direction. Crowley kicked a bit of snow and it froze. As if it were a series of dominoes, the ice flew forward in a single path that forked just as it arrived where the two teens were running, causing them to slip, stumble, and fall in ungraceful heaps. He smirked and looked proudly at his work for just a moment.

He turned back to the crowd when he processed that he was hearing wailing from a number of the kids. He could see Aziraphale wiping the tears of a small girl who had been hit with a snowball. Parents were consoling the other children, but there was one standing alone. Crowley approached carefully, pushing his glasses as far up as they would go.

“You okay?” he asked as he knelt near the kid. Not too close, but close enough to talk, let the kid approach if needed.

“Yeah,” came the reply. His voice was soft and he looked terribly sad. 

“Didn’t hit you, then?” 

“No.”

“Everyone else okay?”

“Yeah. They’ve all got their mummies and daddies here.” 

So that was it.

“What about you?” he asked softly.

“I don’t have a daddy. And mummy said she wanted to be here, but she had to work. She’s gone a lot.” He sniffled and still refused to look up from his boots.

“Me too, kid.” Crowley nearly laughed at the irony and waved his hand a bit, brushing the snow from his boot. “What’s your name?”

“Michael.” he finally looked up.

“Michael,” Crowley nearly laughed again, “nice to meet you. M’Crowley.” He held his hand out and the kid took it. “What do you say we start the next song?”

“But Miss Emily says we have to wait for her to tell us when to start.” Michael looked wide-eyed at Crowley. His eyes were blue and clear, like someone else he knew.

“That’s okay. I don’t think Miss Emily will mind. C’mon.” Crowley stood and the two walked hand-in-hand until they had rejoined the group, which seemed to have regained some sense of order, probably thanks to a certain angelic peace. “What’s your favorite song?”  
“Hmmmm…” Michael furrowed his brow in deep thought, “Harold Angel sings!”

“I think you mean “Hark the Herald Angels Sing,” Crowley chuckled.

“Yeah! That one!” Michael grinned up at him in a toothy, lopsided way.

“Alright, go ahead.” Crowley stopped and gestured toward the group.

“I don’t know the words,” he furrowed his brow, thinking again.

“But you said it’s your favorite,” Crowley reminded him.

“It is, I just don’t know the words. What’s your favorite?” Michael stopped.

“Uh, I dunno, kid,” Crowley shrugged.

“You don’t have a favorite?”

“Guess not.”

“My mummy’s favorite is O Come Emmanuel. Do you know that one?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, I think so. Do you know the words?” 

“Mmhmm! Mummy sings it to me at bedtime. It’s pretty,” Michael smiled sadly.

“Good. Go on, now.” Crowley tried to guide him forward a few steps.

“You said we would do it together.” Michael stared up at him, unmoving.

“Did I?” He thought about how he had phrased it. He had said ‘we’. “I suppose I did. Alright kid, but this is a one time thing. I don’t sing.”

“Singing is fun! I love to sing!” he bounced up and down on his toes.

“Sure it is. How do you want to start?” At this point Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s eyes on him, watching from across the group.

“Miss Emily always does this when she wants us to start.” Michael jumped in front of Crowley, facing him, and swung his arms out wide, then brought them into his chest, pointing at Crowley with a very certain and emphatic nod. 

“Great, you do that and we’ll start.” Crowley nearly rolled his eyes, but there was a small grin on his face.

“Okay! One, two, three!” Michael waved his arms and as he pointed and nodded, Crowley began to sing.

His voice was low and just a bit raspy, but still smooth and warm, like a flame that crackled and burned on a cold night.

_ O Come O Come Emmanuel  
_ _ And ransom captive Israel  
_ _ That mourns in lonely exile here  
_ _ Until the son of god appears _

Michael did not join in at first, focused on giving Crowley his cue, and then captivated by his voice. Crowley looked at him and held out his hand, begging him to join in. Michael took the extended hand and stood by Crowley’s side, joining in.   
  


_ Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel  
_ _ Shall come to thee, O Israel _

Crowley faltered. He didn’t remember what words came next, he looked down at Michael, who was looking up at him, waiting for him to lead, but he couldn’t.

_ O come, Thou Dayspring, from on high,  
_ _ And cheer us by Thy drawing nigh;  
_ _ Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,  
_ _ And death's dark shadows put to flight. _

A clear voice rang out from the crowd. It belonged to a woman who looked overworked. She had dark circles under beautiful green eyes. Her hair was smooth and dark beneath her hat and she wore a pantsuit and dress shoes, which were very out of place in the park.

“Mummy!” Michael cried and ran to her. She knelt as he ran, wrapping him up in a hug as he threw his arms around her. She kissed him on his cheek.

“I love you, Michael!” She wiped a tear from her eye. “Sing with me?”

Michael nodded.

_ Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel  
_ _ Shall come to thee, O Israel _

Michael and his mother, Grace, stayed in the park for hours, making snow angels, building a snowman, and just enjoying the day. Michael had insisted that Crowley play with him, too. The two were currently playing some form of tag that Michael had made up when Aziraphale joined Grace on a bench. 

“What a sweet boy you have,” he smiled. 

“Thank you,” she smiled with what seemed like her whole heart.  
“He seemed so excited that you were here today. You must mean a lot to him,” Aziraphale smiled at his demon, who was currently making Michael into a snowman.

“I told him I couldn’t come. I was supposed to be working today.”

“Supposed to?” Aziraphale returned his attention to Grace.

“Yeah. I got to work and was in the middle of a meeting when something went wrong. The power surged or something, the computers all went down. Phones, too, so we couldn’t call for help. They sent us all home for the rest of the day.”

“Isn’t that something?” Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and turned his head back to where Crowley was gently throwing snowballs at snow-Michael, who was laughing wildly.

“A miracle.”

“Christmas is the time for miracles.” Aziraphale placed his hand gently over hers, and when he took his hand away, there may have been a faint snap of fingers. “Maybe you’ll find a job that will allow you to spend more time with your son.”

“Oh, that would be a miracle!”


	13. Day 13: Wrapping Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

Aziraphale was bristling. There was a party of customers that refused to leave the bookshop. 

_ Americans _ . 

They were shopping for Christmas presents and were very loud about it, calling to each other from across the shop or between shelves. They touched nearly every single book, handling them without care, tossing them back onto the shelves when they were done. One of the women in the group kept shooting apologetic looks to Aziraphale as he stalked around the shop, his lips pressed into a thin line, hands clasped tightly behind his back. 

“Did she say that she  _ had  _ this book or she  _ wants  _ this book?” a tiny woman called, clearly the leader of the group. “I know she said something about it, but I can’t remember what she said. Do you remember what she said? It was just last week, when we saw her for dinner.”

“I think she said she just read it. It was a different one that she wanted. Same author though,” the man that must have been her husband replied from two shelves away.

“Oh, you’re right. She already has this one. It was another one she wants. Are you sure it was the same author? I don’t remember that part. Or maybe it was. Was it this one?” She held the book aloft as tall as she could and waved it around the corner of the shelf, even though her husband was not there to see it. 

“What book?” He asked, poking his head. “No, not that one.”

“Well, which one then? I don’t remember what it was called,” she huffed, throwing the book back toward the shelf. It bounced down and landed with a thud on the floor.

Aziraphale leapt forward, grabbed the book, dusted it lovingly, and carefully replaced it to it’s spot on the shelf.

“If I might suggest,” Aziraphale fought back a huff, “there is a lovely little shop just down the road that would be able to help you more than I.’

“We’ll probably make our way there, but after this I do believe we’re going to lunch. Where are we going again? That little italian place, right? Is that what we decided? Or did we want to go to the sushi place?”

“Italian!” her husband called. The quiet woman gave Aziraphale another look, begging forgiveness for her companions. He shot her a kind smile to reassure her that he appreciated her behavior, no matter how much he hated her companions’. 

“Oh, right! Of course! We talked for ten minutes about what place has the best breadsticks! I remember now!” Her voice was loud and grating and Aziraphale couldn’t take it a moment longer.

“I am sorry to cut this short, but, unfortunately I have an appointment and have to close up for the day. I do apologize, but that lovely little shop down the road will have just what you’re looking for!” He waved his hand to ensure it was true. “Best of luck! Enjoy lunch!” Aziraphale all but herded them out the door, closing it with a quick click of the lock. 

He leaned his back against the door and heaved a sigh of relief.

“Well done, angel.” Crowley sauntered out of the back room, a smirk on his face.

“You  _ could _ have helped, you know.” Aziraphale crossed his arms over his chest and hunched further against the door.

“I could have, but it wouldn’t’ve been as fun.” He walked toward Aziraphale and ducked his head for a kiss before adding “For me.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale ducked away from Crowley before he could get that kiss, and stalked to the back room.

“Aaaaangel.” Crowley soothed. “I’m only teasing.” He leaned against a bookshelf, cocking his hip, his arms open in an apologetic manner. “I would have stepped in if needed, but you can handle yourself. You’re tougher than you look.”

“Oh,  _ really _ !” Aziraphale had his back to Crowley, busying himself with papers on his desk, but at that moment he turned to face his demon, hands on his hips.

“What? It’s true?” Crowley closed the distance between him and the angel, hips swaying.

“Even so, you could have stepped in! I was quite distressed! They were throwing the books all over the place!” Aziraphale didn’t resist as Crowley stepped closer. “You really are a menace, you know.”

“I know. But you lo-like me anyway.” Crowley hid his blush by pressing his lips to Aziraphale’s forehead.

“I suppose I do. Like you.” Aziraphale’s cheeks flushed a light pink. 

Crowley looked into Aziraphale’s eyes, which were gazing back at him with anticipation, inviting and he obliged, leaning in to press their lips together. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley’s neck, pulling him closer.

When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against Crowley’s.   
“I do rather like that.” He pressed one more quick kiss to Crowley’s lips and then pulled away. “Now, we have work to do!”

“Do we? Could do it later,” Crowley suggested, winking at Aziraphale.

“Come, now!” Aziraphale shook his head. “Be a dear and go gather the bags from under my desk.” 

Crowley pouted, but did as he was asked. His arms were full of colorful holiday bags when he reemerged from the back room. Aziraphale had set up a station near the tree with a table, at least a dozen rolls of colorful wrapping paper, scissors, tape, a bag of bows, four spools of ribbon, and an assortment of gift tags.

“You got everything?” Crowley teased.

“Too much?” Aziraphale’s eyes were huge, eyebrows raised almost to his hairline.

“Nah,” Crowley pecked the angel on the cheek and set the bags down. “How can I help?”

“Let’s start with these! I picked these up for Anathema and Newton. I do hope they like them!” Aziraphale handed them to Crowley while he busied himself matching ribbons to paper.

Crowley smiled. Books, of course. A book on computer repair for Newt and a book on ancient witchcraft that reminded Aziraphale of Anathema.

“They’re great. They’ll love them.” Crowley handed one back to Aziraphale, who began to measure and cut the paper with his brow furrowed in concentration.

Crowley snapped and Aziraphale’s gramophone sprung to life.   
  


_ Christmas, the snow’s coming down  
_ _ Christmas, I’m watching it fall  
_ _ Christmas, lots of people around  
_ _ Christmas, baby please come home _ _   
  
_

“Lovely idea, Crowley! Very festive!” Aziraphale beamed as he taped the paper down over Newt’s book. “Which ribbon do you like best?” He held up two for Crowley to choose from.

“Uh, angel. It looks a little…” he tilted his head to one side, trying to make sense of the package in front of him.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” Aziraphale lifted it off the table, then sighed and placed it back down. “It is, rather.” His shoulders slouched in defeat.

“Don’t worry, we can fix it. You just used too much paper.” Crowley removed the paper from the book and rolled out more paper.  
“Too much? I didn’t know there could be too much.” Aziraphale leaned over his shoulder. 

“Yeah, it makes the ends all crumpled.” Crowley took the scissors and swiftly sliced the paper. “Tape?” He held his hand out and Aziraphale placed it into his outstretched hand.

He swiftly folded the paper around the gift, taped it, and held it out for Aziraphale.

“Wow. That’s very impressive!” Azirphale took the gift and inspected it wondrously. 

“S’nothing.” Crowley shrugged and grabbed the next book.

“I suppose you are used to tight wrappings,” Aziraphale smirked and glanced at Crowley out of the corner of his eye. Crowley froze for a moment, then raised his head to Aziraphale, jaw dropped, eyebrows raised.

“ANGEL!” he sounded almost scandalized.

“What? Did I say something wrong?” Aziraphale looked back at him innocently.

“You - I didn’t - nkg!” Crowley couldn’t seem to form words. Azirpahale was trying not to smirk as he tied the ribbon into a neat bow. This part he knew how to do.

“What do you think?” Aziraphale held up the present.

Crowley had a strange look on his face.

“What’s wrong dear?” Aziraphale placed the book on the table and took Crowley’s hand.

“Nothing’s wrong. Just - you noticed?”

“Noticed what?” Azirphale looked perplexed.

“The - I mean - my wrapping,” Crowley floundered, eyes darting around the room to avoid looking at the angel.

Aziraphale laughed. “Of course! It would be impossible not to! You always dress so stylishly, dear.” He squeezed Crowley’s hand. “Help me with the next one?” He held out Anathema’s book and Crowley took it.

It was a nice system - Crowley handled the paper while Aziraphale added ribbons, bows, and tags. As they finished each gift, it was placed with care under their tree. Gifts for Madame Tracy, Sergeant Shadwell, Adam, Mr. and Mrs. Young, the other members of The Them, Warlock, and the Dowlings, joined Anathema and Newt’s, as well as a gift basket for the Tadfield Air Base. It was a lovely sight to see all the beautifully wrapped gifts reminding them of all of the people who were involved in the averting of the apocalypse, of helping them fight for their own side.

“Job well done. We should send them out soon.” Aziraphale smiled as he leaned into Crowley’s side.

“Soon. Not yet.” Crowley then wrapped Aziraphale in his arms.


	14. Day 14: Eggnog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

“What’cha doing?” Crowley curled next to Aziraphale on the couch, handing him a mug of cocoa.

“Just looking over the list. We still have a lot to do and only ten days left to do it!” Aziraphale took the mug with a happy little wiggle and took a sip.

“What have we done?” Crowley took a sip of his coffee and leaned his head on the angel’s shoulder to look at the list.

“Caroling, snow angels, decorating the tree, set out the nativity, wrapped gifts, saw the Nutcracker, made s’mores -”

“Is that a Christmas thing?” Crowley asked.

“I’m counting it!” Aziraphale nudged Crowley gently in his side and continued reading the list. “Ugly Sweater -”

“No.  _ We _ did not do ugly sweaters.  _ I _ did the ugly sweater. You still have to.” Crowley corrected, 

“Okay, okay! Spent and evening by the fire, roasted chestnuts, kissed under the mistletoe.” Aziraphale’s voice got soft at the last one.

“Did we? I don’t remember.” Crowley smirked.

“Don’t remember! Crowley, how could you - OH!” Aziraphale’s mood shifted back to playful when he saw the grin on the demon’s face.

“Remind me?” He leaned in.

“Foul fiend.” Aziraphale shifted to lean in and the two met, lips soft and warm. Crowley nibbled on the angel’s bottom lip, which earned him a small yelp and he broke away, laughing.

“Didn’t like that?” he asked.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it, I was simply surprised.” Aziraphale blushed deeply.

“Sorry,” Crowley said as he nuzzled against Aziraphale’s neck.

“No need to apologize, my dear.” Aziraphale soothed, his fingers running through red hair.

“So, what’s next on the list?” Crowley asked.

“Well, if you’re up for it, I’d like to go out and try some of the traditional food items.”

“Of course you do.” Crowley smiled and pecked Aziraphale on the cheek and slithered off the couch. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t mind?” Aziraphale stood tentatively.

“An afternoon out sounds good, angel.” He held Aziraphale’s coat out to him.

“So, what’s first?” Crowley asked as they walked arm in arm.

“There’s this lovely little bakery just down the road that I’d love to pop into. I’ve heard they have lovely holiday treats available.” Azirphale tilted his head toward the warm rays of the sun peeking through the clouds and his pale hair glowed.

“Anything in particular?” 

“Nothing was specifically mentioned, just that they’re very good.” Aziraphale beamed in anticipation. “I am looking forward to this.”

“I know you are. I can practically feel your stomach rumbling from here,” Crowley teased.

“Well, it is always best to enjoy food when one is hungry,” Aziraphale tutted.

The two turned the corner and could see the bakery’s sign. Aziraphale put a bit more bounce into his step as they approached. Inside, the shop was warm and decorated in bright colors - pink, turquoise, lime green, yellow, gold, and silver. Ornaments were hung from fishing wire suspended from the ceiling, giving the illusion that they were floating. They also hung in the window, suspended by ribbon covered in glitter, and on the small tree in the corner. 

Aziraphale nearly pressed his face to the glass of the pastry case in his excitement. He had heard right - the case was filled with beautifully decorated pastries, cookies, and cakes of all flavors.

“Do you know what you want?” Crowley asked.

“I think I do!”

The small table was covered with plates of sugar plums, fruitcake, gingerbread men, and various pastries. Crowley held his coffee in his hand, as there was no room for it to be placed down, smiling over the top if it at his companion, whose hands flitted from plate to plate, nibbling from the many sweets. He gasped and exclaimed and moaned as he tried each one, savoring every flavor and texture, commentating like he was a judge on one of the baking programs that Crowley definitely did  _ not _ enjoy watching, no matter how many times it just happened to be on his telly.

“These are all truly scrumptious!” Aziraphale set down his fork. “Would you like to try?” His blue eyes were wide with joy and sparkled in the lights that twinkled around the shop.

“What do you think I’d like?” Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I think this.” Aziraphale broke off a piece of a gingerbread man and held it out.

“Why this one?” Crowley asked, taking it, but did not eat it yet.

“Oh, it’s divi- I mean delicious. Spiced just right so as to still be sweet. It’s not over baked, nice and chewy, and the icing is light and the technique used is exquisite!” Aziraphale spouted off without any hesitation, beaming the whole time.

“Well, when you put it like that.” Crowley lifted the cookie piece to his lips and popped it in, chewing slowly, trying to understand what Aziraphale had said. It  _ was _ chewy, not at all hard or dry, and it was a nice balance of spice and sweet.

“And, it seemed right. Gingerbread for the ginger.” Aziraphale smirked.

Crowley inhaled to laugh and a crumb hit the back of his throat, throwing him into a coughing fit. He dropped his coffee mug, which shattered on the floor, spilling what was left of his coffee.

“Oh, dear! Are you okay?” Aziraphale stood and knelt by Crowley’s side.

“M’fine,” Crowley wheezed. “Need a drink.”

“Here,” Aziraphale handed his cocoa to Crowley, who gulped it down, soothing his cough. “Better?”

“Better,” Crowley nodded. He looked up and there was an employee cleaning up the broken mug. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“It happens,” he shrugged. “No big deal.” He shot a smile at Crowley and Aziraphale and dropped to the floor to wipe up the last of the coffee.

“I’ll get us new drinks, dear.” Aziraphale moved back to the counter and placed the order. He glanced back at Crowley as he waited for their drinks to be made and smiled. 

Crowley rearranged the table, stacking empty plates, and shifting them around to make room for their mugs, which Aziraphale set down upon his return.

“What’s this?” Crowley asked looking down at the liquid that was definitely not coffee.

“Eggnog! Freshly made, I’m told!” Aziraphale beamed. “And I have a box waiting at the counter to bring home!”

“Eggnog...with eggs?” Crowley cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, yes dear. It’s very good. Just try it?” Aziraphale was heading towards disappointment and embarrassment and Crowley wouldn’t stand for that. He obliged and took a sip. It wasn’t bad really. Warm, creamy, sweet and spiced, and just a hint of…

“Is that  _ rum _ ?” Crowley peeked over his glasses at Aziraphale, who grinned.

“I might have added that.”

“Angel!” Crowley laughed.

“I’ve heard that’s what makes it especially warm!” Aziraphale tried to seem scholarly with this point, but Crowley could see through it. He knew Aizraphale just liked alcohol and was glad for it. It’s always far better to drink with a friend than to drink alone.

“F’course. Spiced rum, yeah?”

“Yes. I’ve read that you can add any number of alcohols and it would be good, but this one seemed like it would be lovely.” Aziraphale placed his mug down.

“Lovely,” Crowley agreed. He moved his hand across the table and placed it over Azirahale’s.

“Lovely,” the angel said softly, blushing a gentle pink.

When they had finished with their feast of treats and their mugs were quite empty, the two stood and moved to the door.

“Wait!” Aziraphale turned back to the counter and picked up a box with the name “A. Fell” scrawled across it in marker.

“What is it?” Crowley asked, offering his arm.

“A buche de noel!”

Crowley stared blankly.

“A Yule Log, dear. It’s a lovely cake! You’ll like it.” Aziraphale batted Crowley’s elbow away softly. Crowley stepped half a step away in shock and let his arm fall limp at his side. He needed both hands available to cradle the cake. Crowley opened the door and followed out after the angel.

Once outside Crowley started to walk back toward the bookshop, but Aziraphale cleared his throat and he stopped. Aziraphale looked shyly up at him, his hands were full, but it was clear that he didn’t want Crowley to be too far.

Crowley moved back and wrapped his arm around the angel’s waist. Aziraphale hummed happily and let Crowley lead them back to the bookshop.


	15. Day 15: Laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said cautiously. Crowley had been lounging on the couch, scrolling away on his phone, while Aziraphale read at his desk. Crowley had realized that something was on the angel’s mind because he hadn’t flipped a page for over fifteen minutes, but he didn’t say anything. Best to let Aziraphale work up the nerve to talk about whatever it was.

“Yeah?” he glanced up, noting the furrow of Aziraphale’s brow, the way his eyes darted around to look at everything except Crowley, the way his hands were wringing in his lap. 

“There’s something I'd like to do, but I’m afraid you won’t like it. I do hope you’ll consider it, though. Just take a bit to think about it. For me.” 

“What is it?” Crowley sat up and leaned closer to Aziraphale, his golden eyes bright and inviting whatever plan Aziraphale had cooked up.

“Well, it’s a tradition. It’s not on our list, but it does seem rather fun and it would be a nice keepsake of our first christmas after, well you know. And you really don’t have to, dear, but -”

“Angel. Just say it.” Crowley raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the way Aziraphale was rambling on.

“I would like to - I mean for us to - that is we could -”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley grabbed his hand reassuringly. 

“Could we take a Christmas card photograph?” Aziraphale’s eyes shimmered with uncertainty and anticipation.

“Christmas card photograph?” Crowley repeated. It wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Yes, it looks like rather a lot of fun! People get dressed up in festive clothing and they do silly poses and then they choose a photograph and it gets printed on a card and then they send it out to friends.” Aziraphale brightened up, but Crowley could see the hesitation hiding underneath. “What do you think?”

“You know, angel, I think that sounds fun.” Crowley genuinely smiled.

“Oh really?” Aziraphale glowed, squeezing Crowley’s hand.

“I assume you’ve already planned outfits and poses?” Crowley stood, pressed a kiss to the top of Azirahale’s head, then pulled the angel up to stand in front of him.

“Oh yes, dear! I’m so glad you agreed! I have so many ideas!” He was practically bouncing.

Crowley set up the camera and tripod, choosing the tree as the backdrop for the photos, and, after proving that he knew how to use the timer function, Aziraphale began pulling items out of a box that had been hiding under the tree, behind all the gifts.

“Which one would you like?” Aziraphale held up two equally offensive sweaters in bright colors and adorned with lights or sequins or ornaments or some combination of the three.

“How about this?” Crowley miracled a sweater, black with a red pattern printed in a traditional Norwegian style with snakes that looked like they were from an 8-bit game slithering across his torso.

“I suppose it works. Not quite as exciting as these, but it suits you.” Aziraphale smiled, removed his waistcoat and pulled one of the sweaters on. It was a bright Christmas green with gold tinsel garland wrapping up over one shoulder. Sequins created patterns of holly and snowflakes, and a few red bulb ornaments finished the look.

They took a few test photos, trying out a few poses, but Aziraphale wasn’t quite pleased.

“Let’s try this!” He dove back into the box and pulled out a traditional Santa hat, a necklace of blinking christmas bulbs, a striped elf cap, and a pair of signs on string.

“Props, eh? Alright!” Crowley had a nearly evil glint in his eye as he grabbed at them, placing some on himself and the others on Aziraphale.

“Dear, I hardly think I’m the naughty one…” the angel said, reading the sign around his neck.

“Oh, really? Who tried to kill the antichrist?” Crowley smirked, placing a hat on Azirphale’s head and adjusting the ‘nice’ sign around his own neck.

“To save the world!” he protested.

“I know, angel.” He pecked Azirphale on the cheek, then ran to set the timer on the camera. “Look bad.”

Crowley ran back and threw himself into Aziraphale’s arms, and pulling them backwards into a poorly executed dip. The timer went off just as Crowley tumbled to the floor, pulling Aziraphale down on top of him. The two burst into laughter as they disentangled their limbs and their signs. 

“How very graceful!” Azirpahale chuckled, sitting back on his heels.

“You didn’t catch me!” Crowley protested.

“You didn’t warn me!” Aziraphale straightened his sweater and stood.

“Fair point. Let’s try it again.” Crowley stood next to him. “Look like you’re tempting me and I’ll be swooning.”  
“Swooning?” Aziraphale mused.

“Yeah. It’s not too far from accurate, actually.” Crowley smirked at him from behind the camera, setting the timer again.

“I hardly think I tempted you, dear,” Aziraphale crossed his arms in an attempt to look offended, but widened his stance to prepare to catch a demon.

“You don’t know your own powers, angel.” Crowley ran back to Aziraphale, winked at him and threw himself into the other’s arms, dropping his head back and placing a dramatic hand to his forehead. Aziraphale was ready this time, and did not waver. He even did his best impression of a demon, one eyebrow raised and a crooked smile on his face. They barely made it through to the sound of the shutter before giving themselves over to laughter.

“Is that what you think demons look like?” Crowley asked, standing himself upright.

“Well, I can’t say that many demons have tried to tempt me, so I don’t have much of a reference there.” Aziraphale straightened his sweater and shot Crowley a sly look.

“I should hope not! Now you pick a pose.” Crowley removed his props and handed them over for Aziraphale to use as he saw fit.

“Alright!” He considered for a moment, then placed the Santa hat on his head and handed the elf hat to Crowley. He then placed the necklace of lights around Crowley’s neck and pulled a white beard out of the box, arranging it on his face.

“I’m the elf? Bit tall, aren’t I?” Crowley inspected the necklace with a bit of disgust.

“It’s fun, dear. Besides, I am a bit more jolly in appearance, so I think it works!” Aziraphale winked to Crowley and gestured for him to set the timer.

When Crowley was behind the camera Aziraphale had an idea and ran to the back room, dragging a chair out and placing it in front of the tree. He settled into it and waited for Crowley.

“And what am I supposed to do?” Crowley asked.

“Whatever you want.”

“Be careful what you wish for!” Crowley set the camera to take multiple photos, started the timer and crossed to the chair. In the few moments during which the camera shutter sounded Crowley stood next to the chair, lounged against the chair, knelt next to the chair, and ended up lounged across the chair in Aziraphale’s lap, head thrown over one arm and his legs thrown over the other. He looked rather pleased with himself.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale was laughing and Crowley enjoyed how his little round belly did shake like a bowl full of jelly. He had cast the roles well.

“What’s next?” Crowley’s eyes were now wide and mischievous.

“Oh no, it’s your turn now.” Aziraphale removed the beard and handed it to Crowley.

The two spent well over an hour taking all sorts of photos with every combination of props and every pose they could think of. By the end, their stomachs were sore from laughter.

A bottle of wine had been brought out just shy of an hour ago, a second bottle joined them 30 minutes ago, and the third was currently being opened and enjoyed.

They had pushed the armchair to the side and were standing in front of the tree, glasses in hand. The lights on the tree glowed brighter as the sun was going down outside. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but it wasn’t far off.

“Thank you for agreeing to do this,” Aziraphale smiled at his demon.

“Yeah, of course. It actually was fun,” Crowley raised his glass.

“Oh yes, a toast!” Aziraphale raised his glass as well. “What to?”

“To Christmas?” Crowley shrugged.

“To celebrating Christmas. Together.” Aziraphale’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at Crowley adoringly. Crowley tilted his head slightly to the side, mirroring the soft smile. The tipped their glasses forward to meet in the middle, clinking softly as they captured the colored lights from the tree behind them and spread them around the room.

Without knowing which one willed it so, the camera shutter clicked.


	16. Day 16: Ice Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

Crowley was pouting on the couch. He had hoped to go out today. He had been spending most of his time at the bookshop and he needed to check in on his plants and grab a few things from the store, but it had been storming since early the previous evening and there were no signs that it would stop anytime soon. 

“Ugh!” he threw himself onto his back on the couch, his arm draped over his face. 

“Still storming, then?” Aziraphale asked, looking over at Crowley from above his small, round reading spectacles.

“I don’t think it’s ever going to stop,” Crowley complained, looking over at the window again.

“Don’t let this ruin your day, dear. You could always read a book.” Aziraphale suggested, gesturing to a pile of books on the floor.

“I don’t read books,” Crowley sat up, slumped over, and threw his chin into his hands.

“I could read to you if you’d like. Go find a book you’re interested in.”

“Don’t want to read, want to do something.” Crowley was nearly whining at this point, splayed out on the couch, golden eyes wide and pleading.

Aziraphale sighed heavily and closed his book, turning to face the couch.

“Dear, I’m not sure what you expect me to do.”

“Could stop the storm,” Crowley suggested, doing his best impression of Aziraphale’s puppy dog eyes that he’d never been able to disappoint.

“I can’t. Well, I could, actually, but it’s not wise to do something on that scale right now.” Aziraphale still had his spectacles on and looked like a professor lecturing to his students.

“I know,” Crowley huffed.

“Here,” Aziraphale shuffled through the papers on his desk and handed one to Crowley. “Pick something to do.”

Crowley took it and read over it. “Really?” He cocked an eyebrow at the angel.

“You wanted something to do and those things need to get done.” Aziraphale flipped through his book again, leaving Crowley to make his choice.

“We can’t go out, angel. How are we supposed to do these?” Crowley waved the paper around in the air.

“Find something we can do,” Azirphale’s attention was still on his book.

“Ugh… ‘ziraphale!”

“Just pick something from the list dear.” 

Aziraphale clearly wasn’t going to take his attention away from his book until Crowley gave him something else to focus on, so he looked over the list again.

“Okay,” he was beginning to form an idea.

“Okay, what?” Aziraphale flipped another page. “Have you selected an activity?”

“ _ Have you selected an activity _ ,” Crowley mocked. “Yeah, I’ve selected an activity.”

“There really is no need for that tone, dear.” Aziraphale didn’t even glance up at him. It was infuriating, really.

“Whatever, angel. I’m going to get it set. I’ll call you when it’s ready.” He stood, tossed the paper on the desk beside Aziraphale’s book, and stalked off. He thought perhaps he ought to tell Aziraphale not to look, but he knew the angel would be too lost in his book to notice anything.

Aziraphale wasn’t sure how much time had passed while Crowley was preparing their activity, but he was just about to finish a chapter when he heard a voice calling him.

“Just one moment,” Aziraphale called back.

There was silence for a few moments while Crowley waited. Aziraphale finished the chapter, closed his book, and removed his spectacles. He stood and found Crowley by his side. 

“Close your eyes.” Crowley’s own eyes were bright with excitement, or perhaps mischief. Aziraphale obliged and allowed Crowley to lead him, one hand on his elbow, the other on his back. When they stopped Crowley let his hand fall from Aziraphale’s elbow, but kept the one on his back.

“Ready?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale nodded. “Open.”

The light was just beginning to fade outside and the store was alight with the decorations they had hung, with the tree at its center. The lights shimmering off of the ornaments and lighting the greenery in the most elegant ways. His eyes moved upwards toward the skylight and could see that a soft snow was falling, catching the light as each snowflake floated downward. Aziraphale’s eyes followed the flakes to the floor and found that it wasn’t his usual hardwood floor, but it was covered in a sheet of ice. The whole effect made Aziraphale feel as if he had stepped into a snowglobe.

“ _ Crowley _ !” he breathed. 

“Here,” Crowley held out a pair of ice skates.

“This is, well, it’s incredible!” Aziraphale’s blue eyes glittered with the lights.

“Can’t go out because of ice, so I figured I’d bring some of it inside and then skate all over it.” Crowley was already lacing up his skates, so Aziraphale followed suit.   
“Quite the fiend,” Aziraphale teased.

“Thanks for noticing.” Crowley stood and offered a hand to Aziraphale, who took it and stood shakily. “Have you skated before?”

“I haven’t, but I did always enjoy watching humans do it. Gliding across the ice, and the way they jump and flip is quite breathtaking! OH!”

Crowley had pulled Aziraphale out onto the ice and was pulling him along. Aziraphale’s free hand was flailing behind him.

“Stop that. I’ve got you, just try to find your balance.” Crowley stopped and let the angel find his footing on the ice. “Good,” he approved when Aziraphale’s death grip on his hand had loosened. 

“Oh, this is quite lovely,” Aziraphale smiled as he moved himself forward the smallest bit.

“You can go more than that,” Crowley pushed himself backwards, giving Aziraphale more room to practice.

“Oh, must you be so far?” He was suddenly shaky again.

“I’m right here, angel,” Crowley huffed adoringly.

“Promise to catch me?” Aziraphale asked.

“Promise.”

As promised, Crowley was there to catch Aziraphale any time he teetered off balance, which wasn’t quite as often as either of them thought. The angel caught on rather quickly and pretty soon the two of them were skating in nice circles around the tree.

“I’m going to try something. Trust me?” Crowley skated out in front of Aziraphale, turned around to face him, and held out his hand.

“Of course, dear.” Aziraphale smiled, but there was a hint of hesitation that Crowley ignored. He took Aziraphale’s hand and began to skate backwards with gusto, angel in tow. After a few moments, he pulled Aziraphale into him and the two were spinning. At first Aziraphale seemed nervous, but once Crowley’s arms wrapped around him, he began to laugh. Crowley slowed the spin, then repeated the whole thing. This time, Aziraphale knew what to expect and he threw his head back and opened his arms out, doing his best impression of the elegant figure skaters he’d watched over the years.

The third time, Crowley joined in the laughter. They went on like this until the sun had finished setting. The way the lights bounced off the decor was mesmerizing, especially as they skated past. It distracted Aziraphale as Crowley tried to pull him into yet another spin, causing them both to be pulled off balance and topple onto the ice. Aziraphale landed on his back with Crowley landing on top of him, cradling the angel’s head so it didn’t hit the ice. They looked into each other’s eyes, shocked for a moment, then dissolved into laughter, Crowley’s head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

“Are you alright, my dear?” Aziraphale asked, placing a hand on Crowley’s cheek as he pulled back to answer..

“M’fine. You?” Crowley smiled down at him.

“Just splendid,” Aziraphale beamed. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yeah, I did, but I can think of something else I’d like to do now.”

“What’s tha-” Azirapahle was interrupted by Crowley’s lips on his. He gasped softly and threw his arms around Crowley’s neck to pull him closer. Crowley was soft, yet insistent, and Aziraphale was content to feel Crowley’s weight above him and his lips against his. Crowley pulled Aziraphale up so they were both sitting and continued to kiss him, tangling his fingers in pale curls. Aziraphale ran his hands up and down Crowley’s back and the demon hummed against the angel’s lips.

When they broke away from each other, they pressed their foreheads together as they caught their breath.

“You’re awfully good at that,” Aziraphale said softly.

“You too, angel.” Crowley smiled, then shivered.

“Oh dear, the ice is quite cold, isn’t it? Why don’t we have some cocoa by the fire to warm up?” Aziraphale tried to move, but wasn’t able to get his skates under him. He flailed his arms uselessly and landed on top of Crowley.

“Welcome back,” Crowley teased, holding him close and stealing another kiss. “Let me.” He shifted Aziraphale to sit beside him and gracefully pulled his long legs under him and stood. He reached both hands down to Aziraphale, who attempted to copy Crowley’s motions. He was successful this time, if not graceful.

“Next time I think I’ll try one of those jumps,” Aziraphale said cheekily.

“Sure, angel.” Crowley shook his head and guided Aziraphale to the backroom. “


	17. Day 17: Ornament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

The ice storm had passed, leaving everything covered in a layer of crystal. Teams were working to ensure that the roads and sidewalks were safe, but people were back to their lives now that the skies were clear, bustling about doing shopping or dashing off to work.

Crowley and Aziraphale had bundled up and were taking a leisurely stroll around the neighborhood, enjoying the briskness of the fresh air. 

“Feeling better, my dear?” Aziraphale asked with a side glance over at Crowley, who was breathing deeply with just the hint of a smile on his lips.

“Yeah.” He replied, turning his head further to the sky. “I was getting a bit restless. Felt all cooped up.”

“I know,” Aziraphale raised one eyebrow. “You were quite grumpy about it.”

“I - fffmg. I was  _ not  _ grumpy. I don’t get grumpy!”Crowley threw his arms up in exasperation.

“Oh, of course not. My mistake,” Aziraphale smirked.

“You get grumpy, though.” Crowley said casually.

“Certainly not! Angels are not ever grumpy!” Aziraphale looked scandalized, a hand splayed across his chest, as if protecting his heart.

“Right, right, of course. You certainly did  _ not _ get grumpy when we decided to stop using miracles for restaurant reservations and we had to wait an hour and a half to be seated and another forty-five minutes for the food to arrive.” Crowley’s devious smile spread across his face as he remembered his angel ranting about the lack of customer service, leaving people to just sit there  _ starving  _ with no care at all for their welfare. 

“That’s different!” Aziraphale exclaimed.

“Different how, angel?” The two had stopped at the corner, waiting to cross. Crowley leaned against the wall of the nearest building, one foot propped against it so his knee stuck out, arms crossed.

“Well, I was hungry!” Aziraphale huffed.

Crowley leaned his head back against the bricks and laughed, causing several bystanders to look, hoping to see something amusing.

“Well, I was!” Aziraphale continued.

“C’mon, angel. M’only teasing. Grumpy and hungry are two very different things.” He winked, his tone was still playful. Aziraphale shot him one last look and let it go, settling back into their comfortable dynamic.

They crossed the street and continued on their way. After a few minutes of strolling Crowley turned to see why his angel was so quiet and found that it was simply because the angel was not there. He stopped and spun around to see where he had gone to. Aziraphale was walking casually at least six paces behind Crowley.

“Where’d you get off to?” Crowley asked as he waited for Aziraphale to catch up.

“I didn’t get off to anywhere. You did!” Aziraphale’s hands were swinging gently at his sides as he approached.

“I did?” Crowley asked, eyebrows popping up.

“Yes, dear. I’m afraid your legs are a bit longer than mine and you simply pulled ahead.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Not to worry, dear. It was a nice view.” Aziraphale stopped in front Crowley, looking up at him with a rather unangelic glint in his eye.

“Nice view!?!? Nkg - I -  _ angel _ !” Crowley’s eyes were wide behind his glasses and Aziraphale giggled.

“Oh, darling. You put so much effort into your form, it’s only right that it’s appreciated! Come on!” Aziraphale threaded his fingers through Crowley’s and led them along at a leisurely pace. “This ought to keep us together.” He raised their hands to his lips and placed a quick kiss to Crowley’s knuckles before letting them drop back down to swing between them.

“Right,” was all Crowley could manage, unable to hide his smile or his blush.

“Oh look! One of those specialty holiday shops! Mind if we pop in?” Aziraphale’s nose was nearly pressed to the glass of a small place, just one room, walls covered with peg boards from which hung hundreds of brightly colored ornaments. A large tree stood in the center of the room sporting more ornaments as well as notices about sales.

“Sure. Shop’s already decorated, though.” Crowley followed Aziraphale through the door. It smelled of pine and the radio was merrily playing a jazz trio version of  _ O Christmas Tree _ .

“I know dear, but some of these look handmade! Humans really are so creative!” Crowley was pulled over to a wall of ornaments made from wood, designs burned into them. “So lovely!” Aziraphale cooed as he paid each ornament a compliment. 

Crowley left Aziraphale and wandered around the shop, barely glancing at most of the ornaments, although he did find a few that he liked.

One was a vintage car, not quite the Bentley, but close enough that it made him crack a small smile. He picked it up, dangled it from his finger and inspected it from every angle, humming approvingly at the attention to detail. It looked hand painted and it was obvious it had been done with care. He set it back down and moved on.

A few feet away his attention fell to a snake, curling round to itself and downward. He held it up for a closer look and noticed how the red glittered against the black of the body., yellow eyes peering at him, studying him as he studied it. Crowley set it back down with a wink. It was quite a handsome little snake.

His attention was then drawn by a glimmer from across the shop. There he saw hanging a pair of wings that glittered in the light. They were white and looked soft, though it was obvious that they were carved from wood. Crowley drifted slowly across the room, arm raised, as if pulled by gravity. He carefully cradled the wings. They were delicate and beautiful, reflecting little bits of every color as Crowley shifted them in his hands. He pushed his glasses atop his head and held the ornament closer to his face. He realized he wasn’t breathing and he took a shallow breath, carefully, as if he would ruffle the feathers if he breathed too hard.

“What’s that, dear?” Aziraphale was at his shoulder. “ _ Oh _ .” 

Aziraphale wrapped one arm around Crowley’s waist, setting his head on the demon’s shoulder to get a better look.

“It’s stunning,” he breathed.

“Yeah,” Crowley took Azirpahale’s free hand and placed the ornament into it.

“Should we get it?” Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, blue eyes sparkling as much as the ornament in his hand. Crowey shrugged. “I do think so.” He took Crowley’s hand and walked toward the counter.   
“Oh, look, there’s a sale! But we have to get four more to qualify. Did you see any others you liked?”

“Nah, you pick ‘em out.” Crowley leaned on the counter.

“How about this - we picked this one together. Now you pick two and I’ll pick two. Does that sound good?” Azirphale had taken Crowley’s hand in his, staring up at him softly.

“Sure, angel.” Crowley nodded.

“Good.” Aziraphale set the ornament on the counter and raised both hands to gently replace Crowley’s glasses. He placed a quick kiss to his cheek and bounced off to select his ornaments.

Crowley retraced his steps and picked up the snake and the car, then waited at the counter, watching as Aziraphale flitted about.

When Aziraphale finally approached the counter Crowley was curious to see what the angel had chosen.

“Oh, aren’t those nice! This one looks so much like you, dear!” Aziraphale picked up the snake and held it up to the light.

“What did you get?” Crowley asked, trying to see what the angel was hiding.

“Well, I had hoped it would be a surprise, but I know that look, so” Aziraphale held out his hands. “What do you think?”

In Aziraphale’s right hand was a flower. Red petals were held by green leaves, each veined and perfectly imperfect, each beautiful in its uniqueness. 

“A rose?” Crowley admired it.

“Reminded me of you. How you love to take care of your plants. And red, of course.” Aziraphale smiled warmly.

Crowley’s attention shifted to the angel’s left hand and was shocked.

It was a simple round ornament of wood hung on a red ribbon. Swirls and snowflakes were burned, circling the edges and surrounding the words  _ Our First Christmas 2019 _ engraved in a swirling script.

“Do you like it?” Azirphale’s voice pulled Crowley from his own mind.

“Yeah. It’s, it’s nice.” Crowley could feel the burn in his cheeks and tried to push it back down. “First Christmas since we stopped the apocalypse. That’s good.”  
“Well, yes, that, of course. And… well, our first christmas together.” Aziraphale’s cheeks flushed a pale pink, but he kept his eyes on Crowley.

Crowley couldn’t respond, all he could do was push Aziraphale’s arms open, slide in between them, and kiss his angel.


	18. Day 18: Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

“This better be everything!” Crowley let the bags drop onto the floor.

“Crowley! The  _ eggs _ !” Aziraphale flew over and checked to make sure the eggs were unbroken in their carton. “They’re fine! Not to worry!” He sighed in relief, picked up the bags, and hummed happily as he carried them to the small kitchen. 

Crowley had been spending a lot of time at the bookshop and Aziraphale had suggested they spend the next few days at his instead of the bookshop, which would remain closed until after the new year. Crowley seemed hesitant at first, but did seem to like the idea of being able to take care of (and yell at) his plants. He had even tried to make the place less gloomy by adding some lights around, but it was nowhere near as cozy and magical as the decorations at the bookshop.

Aziraphale carried the bags into the kitchen, where he had laid out every bowl, pan, and utensil available while Crowley did the supply run. He unpacked the bags as Crowley slithered into the small kitchen and lounged against the counter. 

“We could just buy some, you know. You like that little place three blocks over.” Crowley raised one eyebrow and one hand. “Or, we could just use a little miracle.”

“No! Crowley! Really, there’s no need for a miracle for this.” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s wrist and pushed it down to his side. “I thought it would be  _ fun  _ to do it the human way. It does sound like it would be a nice way to spend the afternoon.”

“Humans buy them, too, angel.” Crowley smirked, leaning closer to Aziraphale.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale tried to scold, but failed as Crowley’s lips pressed against his own. Crowley’s arms wrapped around Aziraphale’s waist and pulled him closer until they were chest to chest. Aziraphale ran his hands gently over Crowley’s shoulders and the demon melted into the touch, breaking the kiss and laying his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder.

Aziraphale shivered when Crowley’s warm breath tingled against his neck and held Crowley a little tighter.

They were interrupted by a beep from the oven.

“Oh dear! The oven is preheated already! We’d better get going with the dough!” Aziraphale pecked Crowley on the cheek while he forced himself out of his partner’s embrace and began to measure out dry ingredients.

“If you wouldn’t mind reading out the recipe to me while I measure, my dear, it would be ever so helpful!” Aziraphale smiled over his shoulder and Crowley picked up the recipe card.

The two fell into a nice rhythm - Crowley called out what ingredients and how much was needed while Aziraphale measured and poured. Crowley had Christmas music playing through a bluetooth speaker, which made the angel smile and sing along, which is just what Crowley wanted. 

“Would you mind stirring this, dear?” Aziraphale gestured Crowley over to the stovetop where he was stirring chocolate over a double boiler. “I must get the eggs and butter creamed together properly or the cookies won’t be fluffy!”

“Sure,” Crowley took the spook from Aziraphale and began to stir the chocolate. “Why 

this whole thing?” he asked, inspecting the pan of boiling water underneath the bowl of chocolate.

“Chocolate will burn if you put it directly on the heat, but this way, it won’t!” Aziraphale beamed at Crowley as if he were proud to be able to share this knowledge with him.

“Right. Clever.”

“It’s it just?” Aziraphale stopped the mixer to scrape down the bowl. “This is quite fun, don’t you think?” He beamed at Crowley, nearly glowing, and Crowley smiled.

“Yes, angel.”

Crowley quite enjoyed shaping the cookies. Some were rolled into little spheres, some were dropped from spoons, and others were pressed into shapes with cookie cutters. He liked this part, when the ingredients were all combined and he could shape them between his hands, mould them into something new. He worked quietly while Aziraphale chatted away about the recipes he had chosen, their history and country of origin and, of course, sampling all of the doughs and humming in delight. 

He couldn’t quite remember it happening, but at some point aprons had been donned. Crowley’s was a deep red with white frills around the edge. He felt like a 50’s housewife, but didn’t complain because he did rather like the embroidery along the top. It started at the edges and met in the middle, twining down into a pattern that greatly resembled his tattoo. Aziraphale’s apron was a pale blue, simply cut, with tartan straps and tie. On the bib was embroidered in gold a halo floating above a pair of outstretched wings. 

Crowley also liked that, when baking, Aziraphale removed his jacket and rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. He may have even brushed against his arms by total accident as he reached for a certain ingredient or utensil. 

Once the doughs were complete, Aziraphale settled into one of the chairs in the kitchen and began to read aloud to Crowley from “The Nutcracker and the Mouse King. Crowley alternated between lounging against the counter to listen and pulling hot trays from the oven and replacing them with sheets of raw dough.

Aziraphale had finished and moved on to reading some other book. but Crowley wasn’t paying attention to the words. He let the sound of Aziraphale’s voice wash over him as he worked. His voice was warm and safe. He liked this. He liked having Aziraphale in his kitchen, liked having him brighten up his grey flat with his eyes and his smile and his voice, he just liked having him close. It felt like  _ home _ .

“Angel?” He asked quietly, placing the last of the cookies onto the cooling rack.

“Yes, dear?” Aziraphale looked up at him over his book, spectacles low on his nose.

“I - that’s - cookies are done.” He removed the oven mitts and set them on the counter.

“Good. Sit.” Aziraphale patted the chair next to his. Crowley checked that the oven was off and joined the angel near the small table.

“We’ll wait a bit for the cookies to cook, then we can decorate them.” He smiled at Crowley, then continued reading. Crowley leaned back against the chair awkwardly, so he could watch Aziraphale as he read aloud. He was so beautiful - his pale curls framing his soft features, his blue eyes whizzing across the page, his lips moving quickly as he read, his sturdy hands turning pages. Without being conscious of it, Crowley reached out his hand and took Aziraphale’s in his, twining their fingers together. 

Aziraphale stopped reading and looked first at their hands, then up at Crowley.

“I like having you here.” Crowley was staring down at their hands. “I like this. Creating with you. I like that you’re comfortable here. That you want to be here. It’s - I just - yeah.”

Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s hand as he set the book in his lap. With his free hand, he tilted Crowley’s chin up so he could look into those lovely golden eyes.

“Of course, dear. I like this, too. I like being almost anywhere with you.” Aziraphale’s lips brushed his.

“Almost?” Crowley said softly, raising one eyebrow.

“Let’s put it this way, I like being anywhere on earth with you,” Aziraphale chuckled.

“I’ll take it.” Crowley gently wrapped his hand around the back of Aziraphale’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. “Now let’s finish those cookies.”

Not all of the cookies needed decorating, but the gingerbread and the sugar cookies did need to be frosted. The two whipped up the icing, dyed it, and poured it into piping bags. The two fell silent as they concentrated on their work, each trying to impress the other with their skills. Crowley was hard at work over the gingerbread, while Aziraphale was working on the sugar cookies.

Crowley was pulled out of his concentration by Azirpahale’s laughter. He looked up, but didn’t see anything particularly funny.

“What’s so funny?” Crowley asked.

“My dear, you’ve got icing on your forehead.” Aziraphale’s face was scrunched up and

he lost himself to another fit of giggles.

Crowley reached up a hand and found that he did have blue icing smeared across his 

forehead. He licked it off of his finger, then pointed to Aziraphale.

“You’ve got it, too. On your nose and cheek.” Crowley gestured.

“Oh, goodness! Have I?” Aziraphale’s eyes sparkled as he wiped the red icing from the side of his nose and cheek. “We are quite a mess, aren’t we?”

“S’not so bad.” Crowley tossed a towel to Aziraphale, who accepted it gratefully and began to properly clean himself and his work station.

That done, he stood and circled around to where Crowley’s cookies were. They were gorgeous - stars that were swirling rainbows, trees that looked as if they were paintings, and the little gingerbread people were just darling. 

“Oh! Crowley!” Aziraphale’s hands fluttered to his face in surprise. “It’s us! And everyone!” 

There sat on the pan people shaped cookies all decorated to resemble members of their little team - Anathema, Newt, Adam and the Them, Madame Tracy, even Shadwell. And, given the most care, were a pair of ethereal beings. Aziraphale lifted them carefully, inspecting the blueness of his eyes, the careful lines of his tartan bowtie, the gold dragees used for the buttons of his waistcoat. Crowley had carefully piped his sunglasses into place on his, the small tattoo impressively delicate, and his trademark smirk was perfection.

“They’re incredible,” Aziraphale replaced them carefully onto the tray.

“Let’s see yours, then.” Crowley walked over to Aziraphale’s work station.

“Oh, dear. They’re nothing like yours! Yours are so artistic and beautiful and… well, precise!” Aziraphale flew to Crowley’s side, seeming rather deflated.

“They’re great, angel.” Crowley slid his arm around the angel’s waist.

It was true, they didn’t have the precision that Crowley’s did, but they were cute. Where Crowley’s lines had been sharp and defined, Aziraphale’s were soft, almost impressionistic. The colors flowed into one another, mixing as they went, creating beautiful shading. 

“Oh, but yours are so much better,” Aziraphale sighed, looking away.

“Hey. No. I like yours.” Crowley picked one up, a snowflake that sported swirling blues and whites all sparkling under a layer of sugar crystals dyed lightly blue. “Look.” Aziraphale brought his blue eyes back to Crowley, then lowered to his creation. “It’s got no lines, it’s soft, beautiful, and the shimmer from the sugar is a really nice touch.” Crowley’s eyes were intense, trying to make Aziraphale understand.

“I suppose you’re right. It’s not terrible.” Aziraphale conceded.

“You know what I like best?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale shook his head. “It reminds me of you. Lovely, soft, beautiful, with just a little bit of bastard sparkling through.”

“Oh, Crowley.” Azirpahale whispered, then threw his arms around Crowley’s neck and kissed him. It was hard and desperate, but Crowley loved it, kissing him back just as desperately. “You’re beautiful, too, darling. So tall and slim and beautiful.” Aziraphale murmured against his lips. 

“Angel,” Crowley sighed into his partner.

Aziraphale pulled away, to look into Crowley’s eyes. “It’s true. I think you’re so beautiful.”

“I know.” Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s cheek tenderly. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, angel.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale pressed into the demon’s chest, his arms tight around his waist. Crowley could feel the smile against his shirt and pressed a kiss to the top of the angel’s head.

“Here,” Crowley broke the snowflake cookie in two and offered half to Aziraphale, who released his grip on Crowley to take it. “To beauty.”

“To beauty,” Aziraphale agreed and they each took a bite.


	19. Day 19: Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

Crowley was asleep, curled up in his bed, next to a certain angel, who was sitting up against the headboard, reading. It was early morning, the sky barely lightening into the pale pinks and yellows that promised the sunrise wasn’t far behind. Crowley shifted, throwing his arm over Aziraphale’s stomach and pulling himself closer. Aziraphale set his book down on the side table and wrapped an arm around Crowley’s back.

“Whtime?” Crowley mumbled.

“Early, go back to sleep.” Aziraphale kissed the top of Crowley’s head as the demon fell into sleep once more.

A few hours later Crowley woke to an empty bed.

“Angel?” he called too softly. He cleared his throat from sleep and tried again. “Angel?”

“Just here, dear.” Aziraphale called from the kitchen.

Crowley’s extraction from the bed was less than graceful, but he managed to free himself from the covers and make his way to the kitchen, where he found Aziraphale seated at the table.

Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s chest and buried his head into pale curls.

“Good morning, Crowley dear.” Aziraphale shifted so he was facing Crowley, wrapped his arms around him and kissed him gently. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” Crowley kissed him again. “What’re you working on?” Crowley nodded toward the pen and paper that Aziraphale had out on the table. 

“Oh, it’s nothing, just jotting down some thoughts.” Azirphale shuffled the papers so Crowley couldn’t see what was written on them.

“What thoughts?” Crowley tried to reach around the angel and grab the stack, but Aziraphale was strong and held him back.

“It’s really nothing!” Aziraphale’s cheeks were starting to turn pink, which only made Crowley more determined to see what he had been writing.

“ _ C’mooooon _ , angel.” Crowley pouted, crossing his arms across his chest and throwing himself down into the chair next to Aziraphale. “Promise I won’t tell,” he added with a smirk.

“It’s foolish. Just nonsense.” Azirpahale waved it away, but Crowley could tell that he was close to breaking.

“I doubt that. Nothing you do is nonsense. Terribly outdated, sure, but not nonsense.” Crowley placed a hand over Aziraphale’s and looked at him pleadingly.

“Oh, alright. Fine. Foul fiend!” Aziraphale huffed and spread the papers back out, finding the one he had been writing when Crowley interrupted. “I was writing my Christmas wish.”

“Your what?” Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“My Christmas wish. Humans do it. Sometimes they write letters to Father Christmas to tell him about their Christmas wish.” Aziraphale was wringing his hands, watching Crowley.

“Oh, okay.” Crowley sat back in his chair, throwing one arm over the back.

“That’s it? No teasing?” Aziraphale was terribly surprised.

“Nah. I think it’s nice. Sweet.” Crowley smiled softly at him. He really did want Aziraphale to enjoy the holidays and he didn’t want to ruin it by teasing. He would still tease, of course, but this seemed quite personal to Aziraphale.

“Oh. Thank you, my dear.” Aziraphale returned Crowley’s smile, then set back to work. His fountain pen moved across the page carefully, deliberately. Crowley noticed that every so often Aziraphale bit his lip in concentration and was completely endeared by it.

Crowley pulled out his phone and began to scroll while Aziraphale finished his letter, trying to brainstorm the perfect present for his angel. He checked fine wine sellers, vintage book sellers, shops with tartan bowties, but none of it felt right.

“Ah,” Aziraphale sighed happily. “Done!” He set down his pen and swiftly tri-folded the letter.

“Can I see?” Crowley held out a hand.

“Oh, no! Definitely not!” Aziraphale quickly placed the letter into the inside pocket of his coat. 

“Why not?” Crowley asked, curiosity nearly burning him up.

“Because if I tell you, my wish won’t come true,” Aziraphale stated.

“Angel, wishes don’t come true. It’s just some silly human thing.” Crowley said with as much kindness as he could while still brushing Aziraphale’s statement aside.

“Come now, Crowley.” Aziraphale tutted. “Where’s the fun in that? I’ve been told the holidays are quite magical.”

“We can do proper magic. Not that sappy Hallmark holiday magic.” Crowley scrunched his face.

“I rather like both. You’d better write yours, dear.” Aziraphale pushed a sheet of paper and a rather sleek black fountain pen across the table toward Crowley.

“I don’t need to write one. Besides, I’m pretty sure that being a demon puts you on the naughty list for life, so…” Crowley tried to push it back to Aziraphale, but the angel was insistent.

“Please, dear. For me?” His blue eyes were round and pleading.

“Fine, I’ll do it. But you owe me.” Crowley picked up the pen with a huff.

“Oh, thank you, darling!” Aziraphale stood, kissed the top of Crowley’s head and set about making something to drink.

“What am I supposed to write?” Crowley asked after a couple of minutes of staring at the blank paper.

“Just tell Santa your Christmas wish.” Aziraphale said, placing a mug of steaming coffee in front of Crowley. “Say hello, tell him about your year, just what you would write in any letter!” He returned to his chair and sat.

“No one other than you has written a letter in years.” Crowley rolled his eyes.

“Well, you used to. I’m sure it’ll come back to you. It can’t be so different from your textual messages.” Aziraphale took as sip of cocoa and reached across the table and picked up his book, opening it to where the marker indicated

“Text, angel, text. Oh never mind.” Crowley brought his attention once more to the blank page in front of him and began to write. Aziraphale glanced over out of the corner of his eye, but made sure not to read any of the letter. He was quite surprised that he was able to convince Crowley to do this, but then again, he had always had a way of convincing the demon to do things for him.

The two sat in silence for a while, the only sounds were Crowley’s pen scratching at the paper and the occasional flip of the page of Aziraphale’s book.

“Okay. I did it.” Crowley attempted a tri-fold, but ended up making a bit of a mess of it.

“Here,” Aziraphale offered his hand, but Crowley recoiled.

“You can’t read it!” he insisted, gold eyes wide.

“I’m not going to read it, I was simply offering to help you fold it!” Aziraphale laughed softly. “I don’t have to.”

“No, it’s fine. Thanks.” He held the letter out to Aziraphale, who swiftly flattened it out, refolded it, and returned it to Crowley. “Now what?” he asked, looking at his letter.

“Now we wait.” Aziraphale smiled

“Aren’t we supposed to send it?” Crowley cocked his head to one side.

“Oh goodness no! I don’t want my letter floating about in the postal system. I prefer to keep it close until Christmas.” Aziraphale placed his hand over the pocket where the letter was tucked.

“What happens on Christmas?” Crowley tucked his letter into the pocket on his pj shirt.

“I suppose I’ll let you read it and we’ll see if my Christmas wish does indeed come true.” Aziraphale smirked over his cup of cocoa. “Will I get to read yours?”

“Uh, well, nkg.” Crowley took a rather large gulp of coffee. “Sure. Yeah.”

“Oh, good. I look forward to it.”


	20. Day 20: Reindeer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

“C’mon, angel,” Crowley pulled Aziraphale through the crowded park. It had been transformed into a market, stalls formed streets and paths and those paths were filled with families doing some last minute Christmas shopping. Parents called after kids who had run off to the next stall, wives and husbands called to each other from across the way not to look at their purchases, kids squealed as they chased friends and siblings through the market. It was loud and chaotic, but it was the kind of merry chaos that only the holidays could bring. 

“But, look at those lovely tea sets! They look hand-painted!” Aziraphale strained against Crowley’s grip, trying to get a closer look at the tea stall, but the demon held him tighter.

“We can look after. We’re on schedule.” His features were set in a determined expression as he weaved through the masses.

“Crowley, you still haven’t told me where we’re going!” Aziraphale was breathing heavily as he tried to keep up with his partner’s long gait.

“Surprise.” 

“So you said. No clues, then?”

“Your clue is that we’re here.” Crowley used his free arm to gesture to the market.

“That’s hardly a clue, dear.” Aziraphale was sporting that fondly exasperated expression that he gave only Crowley.

“Almost there.” He turned back to face the angel and gave him a wink over his dark glasses, then turned back to face front, continuing his serpentine pattern through the crowd.

Azirphale cried out as he nearly ran headfirst into a stall as Crowley slid between them. Crowley pulled on his hand hard, bringing him into his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Keep up, angel,” Crowley’s face was mostly a grin, the rest covered by his glasses.

“I do wish you would slow down just a bit.” Aziraphale adjusted his cost and bow tie, giving Crowley a look that was an attempt at stern but fell somewhere around amused.

“No need. We’re here. Ready?” Crowley held out his hand and Aziraphale took it without hesitation, his eyes glittering with anticipation.

Crowley led them out of their little alley and back into the bustle of the market, though this areas was much less busy. 

Instead of the masses, there were neat lines of people waiting for attractions that were painted in bright holiday colors and covered in garland, tinesel, and lights. Off to the left was a square pen surrounded by children, parents standing a few yards behind them, going over their shopping lists and making notes, or making phone calls to share what they had found.

“What is this?” Azirphale asked excitedly.

“The North Pole!” Crowley smirked, knowing that his angel would love it.

“The North Pole?” Aziraphale looked around, a grin growing on his face.

“Yeah, go look around.” Crowley put his arm out in an ‘after you’ gesture, then draped it over Aziraphale’s shoulders as he moved past. 

“ _ Reindeer _ ?” Aziraphale gasped as they neared the pen. Inside were three reindeer, two small ones and one bigger with a large set of antlers perched atop its head. They were munching on greens from troughs set around the pen and were mostly ignoring the children all around the pen calling to them and trying to get their attention. A couple of parents sprinted forward as their kids attempted to throw things into the pen, grabbing their arms and dragging them away from the crowd to scold them properly.

“They’re so sweet,” Aziraphale cooed as he made his way to the fence. “How are you?”

The large reindeer tuned his head toward Aziraphale and made his way slowly over.

“Crowley, look!” Aziraphale squealed with a happy wiggle.

“He likes you,” Crowley smirked. “Not surprised.” 

“Could be a she, actually.” Aziraphale poked two fingers through the chain link and pet the reindeer softly on the snout.

“Oh?”

“I read that male reindeer lose their antlers during the winter.”

“Ah, could be a she. Sorry,” Crowley looked at the reindeer, inclining his head slightly in apology. “Didn’t mean to assume.”

“I think you’re forgiven.” Aziraphale smiled as the reindeer stepped closer, nuzzling against Aziraphale’s hand and giving Crowley a kind look with large brown eyes.

“S’pretty cute.” Crowley reached out and let the reindeer nuzzle against his hand. 

“Yes, quite exquisite, aren’t you?” Aziraphale nearly sang, his voice pitched higher as he leaned his head down to be eye-to-eye with his new friend. “Such a kind soul. So gentle.”

Just then a group of children, about 10 or 11 years old, came barrelling toward the pen, screeching and screaming. They shoved Aziraphale out of the way, causing him to stumble into Crowley, who frightened a few of them with a glare, but it didn’t chase them off. He led the angel away from the crowd.

“There really was no need for that!” he complained as they walked. “They could have asked me to move and I would have gladly done so. It was so very rude.” He huffed, clasping his hands behind his back and all but stalking away.

“Angel,” Crowley had stopped walking.

“What?” Aziraphale didn’t quite snap, but it was close.

“Come here,” Crowley held out a hand, which Aziraphale took. “Don’t let it ruin your day. They’re just kids being kids. Most humans aren’t as polite as you and least of all the kids.”

“I don’t expect a bow or a curtsy, but a child that age should know better than to push someone like that!” Aziraphale was pulled into Crowley’s chest and let the rest of his surge of emotion play out.

“It’s alright, angel. I’ve got another surprise for you. Promise me you won’t fight me on it.” Crowley tucked his finger under Aziraphale’s chin and tilted his head up so their eyes met.

“Why would I fight you?” his eyes were wary. “What kind of surprise is this?”

“Nothing bad, I promise. Might even be  _ fun _ ,” Crowley winked at him and starting walking, angel in tow.

“My dear, we have quite different definitions of fun!”

“I think you’ll like it. Trust me.”

“I do,” Azirphale said without a moment’s hesitation, which caused Crowley to pause.

“Yeah,” he said, looking softly at his partner before starting off again.

A few yards ahead Aziraphale could see a sort of cabin decorated with fake snow, garlands of all types, and the largest Christmas ornaments he’d ever seen. Leading up to the building were giant candy canes lining a pathway of stones that were painted to look like peppermint candies. On each side of the doorway stood a Christmas tree, lights blinking away, wrapped in ribbons and bows with santa hats as tree toppers. Between the two trees, just in front of the doorway was a large chair, gold and ornate with a heavy red velvet fabric tacked into place with large brass pieces for the cushion and backrest. Seated in the chair was a merry man in red, laughing away as he spoke with the children who were lined up to greet him.

Crowley waited to Aziraphale to say something, but nothing came, he just looked from Crowley to Santa and back again.

“Well, we wrote him letters, right? But we didn’t send them. I figured we’d just deliver the messages personally, so we can keep the letters and still get our wishes.”

Aziraphale’s face softened from confusion to adoration. “That is incredibly kind, my dear. But perhaps another time? There seems to be a line.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll go quick.” Crowley waved as if in dismissal, but Aziraphale could see the line’s speed start to increase.

“Dear?” He asked.

“What? Can’t deprive them of their chance to talk to Santa. Just making it go faster.” Crowley shrugged, avoiding Aziraphale’s soft gaze. “What are you going to say to him?” He changed the subject to avoid any more compliments.

“Oh, goodness, I’m not sure. I mean, he’s not really - “

“Busy. Santa’s really busy.” Crowley cut him off, raising his voice and glancing around at all the kids to see if any had been listening. “Watch it.”

“Sorry. Thank you, dear.” Aziraphale held back a chuckle at the softness underneath the cool exterior. “I suppose I’ll just have to tell him what I would like for Christmas. It’s really the only thing to do. Don’t you think?”

When it was their turn, Crowley let Aziraphale go up first. He chatted pleasantly with the man for a few minutes, glancing over at Crowley with an expression he couldn’t quite place. Santa laughed in his traditional ho-ho-ho and gestured Crowley over. He sauntered over with a small wave.

“Hello there!” Santa’s voice was low, warm, and booming. Whiskers looked real, too, and he even had the rosy cheeks. “I heard from Mr. Fell that while you like to think you’re on the naughty list, you actually are quite kind and have done many things that would put you on the nice list. Is that true?”

Aziraphale wiggled, awaiting Crowley’s reply.

“Uh, not - I guess so,” he shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Well, I’ll have to check the list again, but why not tell me what you want and I’ll see what I can do.” Santa smiled and looked between the two of them.

“I’ll leave you to it!” Aziraphale smiled and stepped away a few paces to let Crowley share his wish in private, as he had done for Aziraphale. Crowley gestured to Aziraphale when it was safe to return, and so he did.

“Alright, I think I’ve got everything I need.” Santa’s eyes were twinkling and for a moment Crowley wondered if he might not be the real deal. “Time for the photo!”

“Photo?” Aziraphale looked surprised.

“Of course! You have to have a photo! Just give your email to the elf over there and it’ll be waiting for you before you’re home. Now, get in here and smile!” Santa grabbed their arms and pulled them in. They each perched on one arm of the chair, trying to make it look comfortable. 

Aziraphale beamed at the camera, Crowley managed a smirk and Santa erupted in a jolly laugh. The shutter clicked and Santa clapped them both on the shoulder.

“Well done!” Santa said cheerily, waving them off. “And Happy Christmas!” he added with a wink.


	21. Day 21: Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

Aziraphale toddled to the door, arms full, hidden behind a tower of boxes wrapped in green and red papers, and tied up in ribbons, tags hanging off some, swinging with every step.

“One moment!” he did his best to call around the gifts.

“Do you need help?” Crowley called from the back room.

“No dear, I’m quite capable. No need to AGH!” Aziraphale’s foot hit a stack of books and he began to sway and scamper side to side, trying to find his balance and prevent any of the packages from falling to the ground. 

“Gotcha!” Crowley cried, one arm catching Aziraphale to steady him, the other one scooping a few gifts from his arms. “You don’t have to carry them all at once, you know?”

“I had a handle on it dear,” Aziraphale straightened up, then noticed Crowley’s eyebrows were raised. “Well, nearly.” He added.

“Right,” Crowley drawled. “Why are you carrying them anyway?”

“We’ve got to send them out if they’re to arrive by Christmas! I’m afraid we’ve waited too long as it is.” A small frown played at Azirphale’s lips.

“Don’t worry, they’ll arrive in time. Let’s go.” Crowley snapped his fingers and their coats appeared on their bodies.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale tutted.

“What? You wanted to put those down again?” Crowley held open the door.

“Well, no. Thank you, dear.” Aziraphale smiled gratefully as he stepped out into the day.

Crowley loaded the packages into the backseat of the Bentley and held the door open for Aziraphale, who smiled again as he got in.

Crowley crossed and slid into the driver’s seat, pulling into the London traffic. 

“Dear! Crosswalk!” Azirphale cried, eyes practically popping out of his head, his hands bracing himself against the roof and dashboard.

Crowley slammed on the brakes just as a gaggle of kids scampered by.

“Kids!” Crowley muttered, slumping in his seat.

“That was far too close for comfort!” Aziraphale placed a hand over his racing heart, the other giving a small wave to ensure that each of the children would have a lovely and safe holiday season.

“Yes, angel. Got it,” Crowley pouted. He took off again, trying to drive with care, so as not to further ruffle the feathers of a certain angel, and to keep the packages from sliding around in the backseat.

In a few short minutes he pulled into the post office, jumped out and opened the door for Aziraphale. They unloaded the packages from the Bentley and stepped inside to send them off. 

Inside, Crowley lounged against the wall as Aziraphale tried to decide on the best packaging for each gift, carefully writing each address in his perfect script, then lovingly patting it before handing it over to the postal worker for weighing.

“Done, angel?” Crowley pushed himself to standing as Aziraphale turned around, eyes sweeping the room for his partner.

“Ah!” he sighed happily when his eyes found Crowley. “Yes, I do believe so.”

“Let’s go,” Crowley offered his arm to Aziraphale.

“Would you mind if we made one more stop before heading back to the shop?” Aziraphale linked his arm through Crowley’s and the two stepped back out into the winter chill.

“No problem. Where to?” the two slid into the Bentley.

“I’ll let you know where to let me off. Won’t be but a minute!” Aziraphale had a sly smile on his face.

“Let you off? I’m not invited?” Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“No need to worry yourself, dear. I’m just picking something up.” Aziraphale assured.

“Picking what up?” Crowley asked.

“A gift.” Aziraphale said simply.

“We just sent off all the gifts, angel.” Crowley turned to face his angel.

“EYES ON THE ROAD!” Aziraphale cried out. Crowley obliged, but sent Aziraphale a side glance to let him know that he wasn’t off the hook. Crowley was still curious. “My dear, don’t you worry about it. Just let me take care of it.”

“Fine. I’ll let it go. For now.” Crowley huffed.

“Thank you, dear. You can pull of just here.” Aziraphale pointed to the street parking by a strip of shops. Crowley pulled over and parked. “Just a tick!” he pressed a kiss to Crowley’s cheek and hopped out of the car. “Don’t watch where I’m going!” he added before he closed the door. Crowley grubled, but reclined his seat and closed his eyes

He was startled when the door opened just a few minutes later.

“All set, thank you!” Aziraphale was beaming.

“Where’s your bag?” Crowley asked, putting the seat back up.

“No need for a bag!” Aziraphale bounced in his seat.

“Where is the gift?” Crowley pressed.

“Tucked away from prying eyes,” Aziraphale gave Crowley a sidelong glance, lips pressed together, fighting a smirk. 

“Don’t you trust me, angel?” Crowley reached his hand over to take Aziraphale’s.

“Of course, dear! This isn’t a matter of trust, but a matter of keeping it a surprise until the right moment.” He lifted their entwined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to Crowley’s knuckles. 

“What right moment?”

“Christmas, of course!” Azirpahale exclaimed, laughing. “You really are a pest, you know that, don’t you?”

“I know.” Crowley winked at his angel.

They arrived at the bookshop and Crowley pulled the Bentley into his usual illegal parking spot. He jumped out and opened the door for Aziraphale, who had a careful hand placed over his pocket as he stood and crossed to the shop’s door. 

“So, no clues, then?” Crowley eyed Aziraphale’s pocket conspicuously.

“No!” Aziraphale looked scandalized, pressing his hand more protectively to his pocket. “That would spoil everything!”

“Alright, alright!” Crowley threw his hands up in surrender. “You win, angel.”

“Only a few more days, then you’ll find out!” Aziraphale blushed ever so slightly and the two entered the shop.


	22. Day 22: Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

“Hurry up, angel!” Crowley called from the couch. He was wrapped in a blanket, facing the ancient tv that had been set up in the backroom of the bookshop. Crowley was tempted to miracle it into something more modern and sleek, but didn’t want to deal with Aziraphale lecturing him about frivolous miracles, so he left it.

“Nearly done, dear!” Aziraphale bustled around the shop, closing up for the day. He locked the door, turned the sign to ‘closed’, and shut off all the lights except the christmas lights, giving the room a warm glow.

The back room was warm, too, with the fire roaring in the fireplace, and the star glowing over the nativity set. Aziraphale entered and settled down next to Crowley, sharing his blanket.

“There, all done,” he smiled affectionately at his partner and took his hand in his.

“Good. Cocoa and treats are on the table,” Crowley inclined his head toward them, then clicked ‘play’ on the remote. The TV came to life, flashing the scenes in black and white and slightly fuzzy across its screen. A close up of a church bell ringing, followed by the sound of an orchestra as the title card comes into view.

“Have you seen this one, angel?” Crowley asked, draping his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders.

“No, but I read the story it was based on. I’ve heard it’s quite different, though.” Aziraphale settled against him, bringing his cocoa to his lips.

“That angel likes books too,” Crowley chuckled.

“I wish more did.” Aziraphale sighed.

“Eh, don’t worry. Maybe they will. Maybe there will be more that want to be more like you.” Crowley laid his head against soft white curls.

“I highly doubt that. They don’t like me very much. Never did. I’m afraid I was always a disappointment to them.” Aziraphale stared down into his cocoa.

“Angel, you’re not a disappointment.” Crowley paused the movie and shifted to face him, face set in a determined expression. “You are the only decent one, the only good one, the best of them. They should all want to be more like you. Everything you do, you do from love.” Crowley blushed as the word rushed past his lips without permission. “You know, for humanity,” he added hastily. “Aziraphale.”

He pulled in a quick breath at the use of his name and looked up into golden eyes.

“You’ve changed everything. Heaven doesn’t know what to do. I wouldn’t be surprised if more angels wanted to be like you. Free will, living on earth, reading books, eating crepes.” Crowley popped the ‘p’ in ‘crepes’, making Aziraphale giggle quietly. 

“I believe you helped with that, dear.”

“Technicality.” Crowley pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead. “Now, watch the movie.”

They settled in and continued to watch the movie. They watched George grow up, watched as he struggled and fought and changed. 

Aziraphale gasped softly when the distressed man was told he was worth more dead than alive. He nearly cried aloud as he walked out onto the bridge.

“You can’t save him. Not your job. Another angel’s on it,” Crowley pulled him tighter, laughing softly into his angel’s curls.

“He can’t possibly believe that bitter old man!” Aziraphale was beside himself, brow furrowed in concern.

“Don’t worry, he’ll sort it all out,” Crowley assured him.

“He gave up his dreams for so many years to help all those people. If he had left he never would have gotten married or had those wonderful children! That poor town would have been monopolized by that awful old man! He served the people of his community with kindness and care. How could he think that he’s not important?” Aziraphale stared wide-eyed at the screen as a man and an angel dried off from their plunge in the river.

“Sometimes humans wonder. It’s alright.” Crowley comforted, but could feel that Aziraphale was not comforted at all. “Wait, angel. Do you feel like that?”

“Well, I - That is to say - perhaps.” His voice was soft, almost pained.

“How can you think that? You were the guardian of the eastern gate of Eden!” 

“And look how that turned out,” Aziraphale almost smirked at Crowley. “Allowed them to be tempted, then gave them my sword.”

“To protect them! Who knows what would have happened to them without it! And all the other people you’ve blessed! Who even knows how many! And we stopped Armageddon!”

“We had lots of help with that, though. I’m not convinced we were particularly helpful.” Aziraphale crumpled.

“Angel!” Crowley gently cupped his chin and lifted it so their eyes met. “We were part of a team, that doesn’t make us any less important. If you hadn’t been there, hadn’t raised the not antichrist with me, if you hadn’t figured out where the real antichrist was, if you hadn’t said the thing about being human incarnate, I don’t think we would have had the same outcome.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were glittering and soft in the firelight.

“And, I wouldn’t want to live in a world without you in it.” Crowley’s golden eyes were downcast, staring at their hands clasped between them.

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale breathed.

“I thought I had to. It was awful. So please don’t think the world would be better off without you. It wouldn’t.” Crowley’s eyes only lifted as he spoke the last words.

“Do you ever feel that way, darling?” Aziraphale placed a hand on Crowley’s cheek.

“Eh.” He shrugged. “I’m a demon that is bad at his job. Spent about half of my time blessing people cause I had this business arrangement with an angel. Didn’t mind, though. I liked doing things for him. Blessings, lunches, chocolates, didn’t really matter as long as it made him smile.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question,” Azirphale was blushing.

“Then no. I question things, of course, always have, but I don’t wonder about my life because it kinda stopped being mine in Eden.” Crowley spoke carefully, keeping his eyes on Aziraphale.

“In Eden?” the angel echoed.

“Yeah. See, that’s when I met this angel and he was different than the rest. He showed me kindness and that’s when I knew that my life wasn’t just mine, it belonged to him. So I don’t wonder if the world would be better off without me because I know the answer. Without me, my angel might not still be here, and the world is definitely better off having him, so I don’t question my own.”

Tears fell silently from Aziraphale’s eyes as he stared into Crowley’s.

“You really feel that way?” He could only manage a whisper.

“Every word, angel.” Crowley leaned their foreheads together and they wrapped their arms around the other, holding each other close.

They stayed like that until the end of the movie, just being close. When the credits began to roll Crowley clicked the remote to turn the tv off.

“Heaven didn’t think he was a very good angel, but he still saved George and earned his wings. Pretty important work if you ask me.” Aziraphale’s head was nestled on Crowley’s shoulder, his head laid on top of it.

“I suppose it is.” Aziraphale agreed. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything. You’ve always been there, even when I pushed you away.” Aziraphale shuddered at the memories.

“I knew you didn’t mean it. I knew you were stuck.” Crowley pushed the surge of pain in his heart as the memories flashed through his brain.

“I should have trusted you. I shouldn’t have hurt you. I know it would hurt, but I did it anyway. I was so cruel,” Aziraphale’s voice caught on a sob.

“No! Angel, no.” Crowley held him to his chest. “I know what heaven is like. I know how  _ they _ are. Maybe it hurt, but I knew why you did it. I understood. Besides, I don’t think you could really do anything to make me stay away for good.” He kissed one of Aziraphale’s wet cheeks.

“You’ve been so patient with me, my dear. I am eternally grateful. I hope you know how much.” Aziraphale wiped at his face, trying to dry it.

“I know.” They settled in again, pressed against each other in the firelight.

“You know one of my favorite things about you, angel?” Crowley asked, his fingers running up and down Aziraphale’s arm absently.

“What?”

“Warm,” Crowley smiled.


	23. Day 23: Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

“Marley was dead to begin with.”

“That’s how it starts?” Crowley pulled the book down. His head was laid in Aziraphale’s lap, head tilted to the side to see the angel’s face around the old tome.

“Yes, dear.” Aziraphale smiled softly down through his spectacles, one hand running through red hair.

“Marley was dead to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that.” Aziraphale continued, lifting the book again.

“Do you even need the book? Thought you’d have it memorized,” Crowley teased. 

“I do.” Azirphale lowered the book again.

“So, if you’ve got it memorized, why do you need it?”

“It’s not the same without it. I like the feel of the book in my hands, the smell of paper and ink, the sound of the pages turning.” Azirphale held the book to his chest as he spoke.

“So sentimental.” Crowley reached up and pressed one long finger to the tip of aziraphale’s nose, causing him to squeak.

“Crowley!” He flushed, rubbing his nose as the demon laughed.

“This is going to take all week if you don’t settle down!” Aziraphale scolded, forcing his laughter down.

“I don’t mind, I could stay here all week!” Crowley winked down at him.

“Well, if you’re not going to behave!” Aziraphale set the book on the side table and gently rolled Crowley off of his lap and onto the floor, crossing his arms as he looked down at the heap on demon laughing on the floor.

“You pushed me off!”

“I did. You’re an absolute menace!” Azirphael let his smile break through the stern look, softening his eyes.

“Maybe so, but I’m your menace.” Crowley sat up and set his chin on Aziraphale’s knee, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“That you are, dear.” Aziraphale leaned down to kiss Crowley. “Now, are you ready to continue with the story?”

“Yeah,” Crowley pushed himself up and reclaimed his place across the couch and Aziraphale’s lap.

“Good,” his fingers resumed running through Crowley’s hair as he lifted the book with the other hand. “No more interrupting.” He took his hand from his hair and pressed a finger to his partner’s nose.

“Hey!” Crowley grabbed the hand, scowling at it.

“Payback,” Aziraphale smirked.

Crowley scowled at Aziraphale then pressed a kiss to the angel’s knuckles and released his hand.

Crowley had seen many film adaptations of this story over the years, even a few stage versions, but this was by far his favorite. The comforting sound of Aziraphale reading each word with care, the feel of his hand in his hair, the warmth from his body. Crowley tried hard to fight down laughter as aziraphale did voices for each character. It was when Aziraphale deepened his voice to a joyous boom on “come in and know me better, man!” that Crowley could no longer hold it in, erupting into laughter against his will.

“What?” Aziraphale was confused by the outburst, as if this was a normal occurrence. 

“Just you, angel!” Crowley managed to choke out.

“What about me?” Aziraphael was getting defensive.

“Oh, it’s nothing bad. I just like the voices is all.”

“You don’t like them?” The defensive expression was replaced with something closer to embarrassment, but only a glimpse of it. It was as if Crowley were looking through a frosted window and could only see a shadow moving behind it. He sprang up, turning his body to face Aziraphale.

“No, I love them!” Crowley smiled wide and bright and toothy. “It’s the best I’ve ever heard.”

“That can’t possibly be true, but thank you all the same,” Aziraphale face was set in what could only be called a poor excuse for a grin.

“Angel, come here,” Crowley opened his arms and wrapped him up in an embrace. “I’m not joking. I’m dead serious. I’ve seen, what, a hundred versions of this and yours is my favorite. Hands down. No competition.”

“Really?” Aziraphale looked up at him.

“Really. Have I ever lied to you?” Crowley asked, cupping Aziraphale’s chin.

“I suppose not,” he replied sadly.

“No, no. Why are you still sad?” Crowley gently tugged the angel’s chin up, but their eyes did not meet.

“I have,” Aziraphale said quietly. “So many times. I didn’t want to, but I did.”

“Oh, angel, no. Don’t do this to yourself,” Crowley pleaded.

“But it’s true! You didn’t deserve it. You never lied to me.” Aziraphale’s eyes were intense and Crowley could see the brokenness behind them. “I just…”

“I know. It’s okay. It all worked out.” Crowley ran his hands over Aziraphale’s back, causing him to press further against the demon’s chest.

“Thank you for coming back. Every time.”

“Hey, someone’s gotta watch out for you.” Crowley chuckled. “Besides, how do you know that the lies weren’t part of the plan. Could be  _ ineffable _ .”

Aziraphale pushed away and stared at Crowley, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. “Did you just say -”

“Ineffable? Yes. Feel better? Good!” Crowley leaned into the space between them, softly pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s, then pulled back again. “Now, I believe we still have to see what is learned from the second spirit.”

He reached across, grabbed the book and flipped through it to find the page they’d left off on. Aziraphale just watched him with an affectionate softness.

“Here,” Crowley handed the book to his partner.

Aziraphale took the book with one hand and with the other, wrapped around Crowley to pull him close. He kissed him once softly, then again, still gentle, but with more behind it. Every lie, every time Aziraphale chose heaven over Crowley, every moment of doubt in their side was left behind. The door was closed and locked with a kiss. Crowley pulled the angel closer and kissed away all the doubt and guilt.   
  


“And so as Tiny Tim observed, God bless us, every one!” Aziraphale sighed contentedly and set the book down on the side table.

“Still my favorite.” Crowley mumbled sleepily from the angel’s lap, eyes closed, but still listening attentively.

“Thank you, dear.”

“Should’ve read it ages ago. We demons could have learned a few tricks.”

“What do you mean?” Aziraphale’s expression was bordering on scandalized.

“Ghosts showing up to terrify people into becoming good? it sounds more like something my lot… I mean Hell would do. But not the good part, just scaring them. For fun.” Crowley smirked, eyes still closed.

“Leave it to you to take this classic work and turn it into an agenda!” Aziraphale scoffed dramatically, tugging at Crowley’s hair.

“What? M’just saying!” He swatted Aziraphale’s hand away, then sat up.

“I, for one, think that this is a beautiful story about the true nature and power of love.” Aziraphale placed a hand on the cover of the book.

“I completely agree, but it’s not the best one.” Crowley feigned nonchalance.

“Oh?” Aziraphale’s attention was back on his partner.

“Well, I once heard one about an angel and a demon stopping the end of the world. Love was featured pretty heavily in that one.”

“It was?” Aziraphale’s cheeks were pink, eyes wide and sparkling.

“Well, yeah. Obviously.” Crowley fought down the pink trying to burn in his cheeks. “You love humanity and Adam loves the world and so it didn’t all end up in a puddle of burning goo. Obviously.” 

“Obviously,” Aziraphal chuckled. “I think that’s the best one, too.”


	24. Day 24: Holiday Card

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

Aziraphale was shuffling about the shop, shelving a new shipment of books he had received weeks ago and left in the corner. Crowley said he needed to go out and put the finishing touches on Aziraphale’s gift, which sounded quite a lot like he still needed to  _ find _ a gift, but Aziraphale didn’t mind. He was just happy to be celebrating the holiday with Crowley, he didn’t need a gift. He had already given Aziraphale so much, he just hoped he could give back to his demon. 

Crowley had always been there, from the beginning. Through all the hard times, with the arrangement, all the lunches, bottles upon bottles of wine, strolls through the park, meetings in theatres and museums. He had given so much and Aziraphale hoped that his gift would make Crowley understand how grateful he was, how much he needed Crowley in his life.

Aziraphale paused and sighed. He wasn’t actually getting anything done. He replaced the unshelved books in the box and set the box on the counter. He was just turning to head to the backroom when he heard the squeak of the letterbox and the  _ whoosh _ of a letter falling to the floor.

He walked to the door and picked up the letter. It was in a brown envelope and there was no postage on it. Odd. He examined it further, holding it carefully between his hands and closing his eyes to sense its energy. It wasn’t divine in nature, nor was it from hell. Ah, human then. That was reassuring. Well, human with just the tiniest hint of supernatural power. Perhaps less reassuring. But it was certainly not orders from either head office, which was a relief.

It was a simple envelope, no return address, and was addressed to “Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley” written in black ink. It was neat print, but not effortless, it had been written with care.

“I suppose I should wait, since it’s addressed to both of us.” He said to himself as he crossed to the backroom. He placed the envelope carefully on his desk and stepped away.

He tried to busy himself, but kept finding his thoughts on the mysterious envelope. Who could it be from? What could it be? Why was it making Aziraphale so irritable?

The angel nearly screamed when he was pulled from his thoughts by the door swinging open. He braced himself against the shop counter to steady himself.

“You okay, angel?” A hand cupped Aziraphale’s cheek.

“Yes, lost in thought. You surprised me.” Aziraphale looked up into golden eyes as the dark glasses disappeared.

“You sure that’s all?”

“Yes, dear. What’s that?” Aziraphale noticed an envelope in Crowley’s hand and was relieved to change the subject. He didn’t want to reveal the letter just yet. He didn’t want Crowley knowing he was worried about it. It was nothing, he was sure. Well, almost sure.

“Look!” Crowley smiled wide as he pulled a glossy sheet out of the envelope. Aziraphale took it carefully and laughed.

It was the Christmas card that Crowley had ordered. After hours of choosing the perfect photo, editing it, and formatting it just right, Crowley had sent it off to be printed and here was the finished product. 

The card was thin and tall, framed in a strand of colorful lights twisting and curving around the edge. The top half of the card showed the two of them, dressed in their holiday sweaters, the tree glowing behind them, glasses raised between them. Their expressions were soft and affectionate. The bottom of the photo faded away into a solid navy. A swirling white script wished “May all your Christmas wishes come true!”

“It’s lovey.” Aziraphale stared at the card, heart beating. He did so hope his Christmas wish would come true.

“You like it?” Crowley slithered behind Aziraphale, chin on his shoulder.

“I like it very much,” Aziraphale turned his head and pecked Crowley on the cheek. “Where shall I hang it?”

“Hang it?”

“Well, I’ve got to display it somewhere!” Aziraphale said proudly. “It’s my first ever photo

card and it is rather beautiful, don’t you think?”

“Maybe near your desk?” Crowley suggested.

“Oh yes! Let’s see!” Aziraphale bustled to the backroom, looking for just the right spot for their card. Crowley followed behind, flopping down on the couch. “Ah, yes. That’s just right, wouldn’t you say?” Aziraphale set the card up against a pile of books just beside where the angel usually kept his mug.

“Looks great.” Crowley smiled up at the angel, who returned the smile and joined him on the couch.

“Oh!” Azirpahale jumped to his feet, picking up his spectacles from the cushion. “Would you mind setting these on the table, dear?” He handed them to Crowley, who flung his arm to the table beside the couch to set them down.

“What’s this?” Crowley pulled his arm back, envelope in hand.

“Oh! I had forgotten about that,” Aziraphale didn’t really lie. “It was dropped through the mailslot earlier. It’s addressed to both of us, so I didn’t open it.”

“Go ahead,” Crowley handed it to Aziraphale, who took it carefully, as if it were fragile.

He turned the envelope over in his hands, leaned forward to grab the letter opener from his desk, and settled back, slicing the top of the envelope open.

He forced himself to breathe when he realized he hadn’t been. It was nothing. At least nothing bad. It was definitely  _ something _ . 

He reached into the envelope and pulled out a card. It was a drawing. A figure of black and a figure in cream stood hand in hand. The dark figure held a tire iron in his free hand, the lighter figure held a flaming sword. Their wings were outstretched and curving around the sides of the card. Just below them stood a smaller figure in stripes, hands on his hips in a defiant and powerful stance, and an even smaller four legged figure next to him. There was a crack in the earth below them, leading from the bottom of the card to just below the striped figure’s feet.

It began to dawn on Aziraphale what this was and a smile crept over his face as all of his fear and concern fled.

He opened the card and read it aloud to Crowley.

_ Happy Christmas! Thanks for helping me _ _ stand up to my dad _ _ save the world.   
_ _ Adam Young   
_ _ and Dog _

“Isn’t that sweet?” Aziraphale handed it to Crowley, so he could see the picture on the front.

“Clever kid. Good thing we didn’t screw him up.” Crowley smirked.

“Rather,” Aziraphale agreed. “Wait!” He noticed something and grabbed the card back from Crowley, who didn’t protest, just looked confused and slightly concerned. “Look!”

Aziraphale held the card out so they could both see the back. Taped to it was a small note paper. On it was scrawled a note in thin, quick cursive and blue ink.

_Thanks for returning the book. __  
_ _Until we meet again.__  
_ __(under better circumstances) 

_ Happy Christmas.  _

_ Anathema Device _

“Book girl!” Crowley chuckled.

“And to think I was worried about this!” Aziraphale laughed at himself, not realizing he was speaking aloud.

“Worried?” Crowley was suddenly concerned.

“Oh, no. Not really.” Aziraphale was flustered. “It just seemed a little odd. No return address, no postage. I thought at first that it was from one of the head offices, but it didn’t have the energy. I suppose I wasn’t worried as much as I was curious.” He tried to play it off.

“What would you have done if it had been head office?” Crowley asked seriously.

Aziraphale thought for a moment. “Called you. Or just left it until you arrived.”

“Call me. If you ever hear from them call me right away. Okay?” Crowley took both of Aziraphale’s hands in his, squeezing them softly.

“Of course. Same to you.” Aziraphale returned the squeeze.

“Yeah.”

“And now we need to find somewhere to display this card!” Aziraphale smiled and stood.

“I’ve got an idea. Just give me a minute.” Crowley stood and sauntered into the shop. Aziraphale could hear him rummaging around in shelves and muttering to himself. There was a cry of triumph, then a quiet shuffling.

A minute later Crowley reentered the backroom, a red ribbon strung between his hands. He walked to the fireplace and fastened the ribbon to the wall above it. He then took paperclips from his pocket and placed them around the ribbon.

“Cards?” He reached one arm back, hand open. Azirphale handed both their card and Adam’s card to his partner, who slid them into the paperclips. He swiped his finger along the back of Adam’s card to break the tape, then gave Anathema’s note it’s own clip. “S’not much, but it’s something.” Crowley stepped back to check on his work.

“It’s perfect!” Aziraphale stepped closer to Crowley, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind. “Happy Christmas Eve, dear.”

“Happy Christmas Eve, angel.”


	25. Day 25: Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

“Happy Christmas, Crowley!” Aziraphale kissed him softly on the cheek. The two had fallen asleep on the couch, watching the fire and wrapped up in each other’s arms. 

Now, Aziraphale shifted his partner so he could begin the day. 

“Mmmm,” Crowley held tight to his angel. “Not yet.”

“Just a few more minutes, dear. We have a lot to celebrate today.” Aziraphale settled back down, pressing soft kisses to Crowley’s head and cheeks. 

When Crowley was awake enough he tilted his head and met Aziraphale’s lips with his own and they melted into each other. The kiss was slow, sleepy, and sweet and they held each other as close as they could at this angle.

“Time for breakfast, dear, then presents.” Aziraphale smiled against Crowley’s lips, earning him a hum of approval. Crowley pushed himself up to sit, and unwound his arms so Azirphale could stand. “Coffee?”

“Mmhmm,” Crowley rubbed at his eyes, adjusting to the light. He noticed that the little fireplace had a festive addition. Hanging from the mantel were two small stockings, each the traditional red and white, each with an embroidered initial in swirling script - A and C, on display above a crackling fire. 

“Where did these come from?” Crowley asked as Aziraphale handed him a steaming cup of coffee.

“Oh, I put them up.” Azirphale stared into the fire, a dreamy smile on his face.

“When?” 

“This morning.”

“This morning? But we were... angel!” Crowley feigned scandal. “Did you  _ miracle  _ them?”

That word pulled aziraphale out of his reverie. “Oh, well, I mean, well, yes! I did! You were sleeping so peacefully and I had meant to hang them last night, but I forgot and -“

Crowley sprang up, grabbed him by his lapels and kissed him.

“Breaking your own rule,” he smirked against the angel’s lips. “Bastard.”

“Really, dear!” Azirphale protested weakly, leaving his head against Crowley’s chest.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Maybe, but you lo-“ Crowley froze for a moment, mouth open, eyes wide, then reset his features and pressed on, “put up with me anyway.”

“I do, you know.” Aziraphale said softly, cheeks flushing pink against Crowley’s shirt.

“Yeah, I know. S’been 6000 years.”

“I don’t believe you’re quite understanding.” Aziraphale shifted. His arms were still around Crowley, as if grounding him, just far enough away that he could look into those golden eyes. “I, erm, I do. Love you, that is.” 

His blue eyes were sparkling, the hint of tears at the corners. Crowley’s eyes grew wide as Aziraphale pulled in a deep, steadying, breath.

“I love you, Crowley.” He took the demon!’s hands in his, sturdy and warm. “I have for so long and I’m finally able to say it freely.” His face was shining, smiling, radiating joy and affection.

Crowley felt as if time had stopped. He was frozen, staring into those blue eyes he’d been lost in for centuries. His heart had stopped beating, his lungs had forgotten how to breathe. With every moment that ticked by the light in Aziraphale’s face seemed to dim.

“Oh my dear, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said - I should have thought -“

“Aziraphale,” Crowley breathed, silencing the angel. “I love you, too.”

Tears spilled down Aziraphale’s cheeks as his eyes opened wide with wonder.

“You do?”

“Since Eden.”

“Eden?”

“Yeah. You were standing there, all nervous and unsure and absolutely beautiful. You gave your sword to the humans when you should have used it against me. I never stood a chance.”

Aziraphale was overcome, tears still streaming down cheeks that were flushed dark pink.

“Oh, dearest. My love.” He caressed Crowley’s cheek, breaths shuddering, laughing through the tears. 

“My angel,” Crowley pressed their foreheads together, tightening his arms around Aziraphale’s waist.

“Wait. How?” Aziraphale pushed back sharply, searching for answers in Crowley’s face.

“How what?”

“How can you love me? I thought...” Aziraphale couldn’t say the words. He knew Crowley loved him, he’d been telling him with lunches and bottles of wine and excuses to spend time together. But demons weren’t supposed to be able to love. Right?

“Dunno. Shouldn’t, but I do.” Crowley shrugged, reaching for Aziraphale.

“You never were a very demonic demon,” Aziraphale settled against Crowley’s chest again.

“I’m the best, er, worst of them,” Crowley teased.

“Foul fiend.” Aziraphale chuckled. “You know, for a demon, you’re quite soft.”

“What a pair we are. A demon who’s soft and an angel who’s a bastard.” Crowley joined in the laughter.

“It’s almost as if we were made for each other,” Aziraphale ran the tips of his fingers along Crowley’s arm, causing the demon to shiver slightly at the sensation. 

“Almost.”

“Can we exchange gifts now?” Aziraphale leaned back, sappy grin on his face.

“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” Crowley’s stomach flipped, suddenly nervous to give his gift. It was the first time they officially exchanged gifts. It was different when he brought pastries or got them tickets for a show, this was bigger. And not just because the gift was physically larger, this was weightier, more.

He was frozen again, processing while aziraphale crosses to the tree and pulled a present from the branches.

“Thank you for guarding this,” he whispered to the tree. He turned back to Crowley and handed him the small box, wrapped in shiny red paper, wrapped in black ribbon and topped with a small black bow.

“I like it,” was all Crowley could manage, taking the package and admiring the wrapping.

“Wasn’t easy finding black ribbon, but I managed it,” Aziraphale beamed, but his hands were wringing. “Go ahead, dear,” he prompted.

Crowley carefully unwrapped it and was left staring at a small black velvet box. He tried to do something, anything, but he found he couldn’t move. 

Aziraphale took it gently and opened it for him. He made a small noise, then lowered to the floor on one knee. 

“I believe this is the customary position for this particular gift,” he gently took Crowley’s hand, a look of concern flashing over his face. “Crowley?”

It was then that he realized he still hadn’t said anything. His system rebooted and he blinked down at his angel.  _ His  _ angel, who was on his knee holding out a ring.  _ A ring! _

It was a simple band of black tungsten, flat and matte with a vein of gold running through it, circling almost like a halo. It was incredible. A perfect representation of Crowley - Aziraphale wrapped up inside, always present, always sparkling and shining against the bleak darkness of heaven and hell. It was the perfect representation of _their side_.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley nearly choked, throat dry, fighting back tears. 

“Too fast?” Aziraphale asked, gentle, reassuring, loving.

“No, not too fast. I love you.” Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand.

“Is that a yes?”

“You haven’t actually asked.”

“Oh, I suppose I haven’t.” He giggled, wiggling a bit. “Crowley, you’ve been by my side for 6,000 years. For plays and lunches and walks in the park and days at the museum and sitting here drinking wine and talking and just being together. I do hope you would, that is, will you stay with me for the next 6,000?”

“Yes. I’ll always be there!” He pulled Aziraphale up into a kiss and let the tears fall when the ring was slipped onto his finger. “Gotta give you your gift now, angel.”

“I don’t believe I need anything else, my dear.” Aziraphale was glowing.

“Oh, but you’re gonna love it.” Crowley grinned wide. He crossed to the coat rack, reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a red envelope.

“Here,” he handed it to Aziraphale, who took it with an excited wiggle.

He carefully opened the tab and pulled out its contents and unfolded the papers. He gasped, a had flying to his mouth.

“Crowley!” He looked up, eyes threatening to fill with tears again. “A cottage?”

“Quiet place, not far from the shore. Thought you’d like it. S’got a nice library. Not as big as the shop, but it’s cozy. Nice kitchen, big bedroom, nice big bathtub, even got a wine cellar. And the lawn needs work, but it shouldn’t take me too long to get it under control.” Crowley reached into the envelope and pulled out some photos of the various rooms, stopping on the one showing the back lawn with beautiful gardens.

“You bought me a cottage?” Aziraphale stared at the photos, in awe.

“Well, I bought us a cottage. That is, if you don’t mind.” Crowley looked up, uncharacteristic uncertainty in his eyes.

“Love, I don’t mind. In fact, I rather insist! I wouldn’t want to be there without you.” Aziraphale’s eyes spilled over again. 

“Oh, angel,” Crowley brought Aziraphale’s face up for a kiss that was overwhelming in the most beautiful way.

“One more thing, dear.” Aziraphale brought an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Crowley. “My Christmas wish.” Crowley went to tear the envelope open. “It’s you.”

“This was your Christmas wish?” Crowley brandished his ring with a laugh. “As if you could ever get rid of me!” 

“What was yours, if I may ask.” Aziraphale was uncertain again.

“You, you idiot! I bought us a  _ house _ , angel! Would’ve gotten around the ring eventually,

too.” Crowley laughed even harder, Aziraphale joining him, clinging to each other for support.

“I love you, Crowley.”

“I love you, Aziraphale. My angel.”

A snap of fingers and Aziraphale’s finger now bore a ring of gold with a halo of black.

“Don’t want anyone thinking you’re still on the market.” Crowley smirked as Aziraphale admired the ring.

“I was never on the market. I only wanted you, my love.”


	26. Day 26: Cider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

Early morning light filtered through the window and landed on Aziraphale’s face, giving his already soft features an even softer glow. Crowley was pressed against his back, one arm propping himself up to see his angel’s face, his other arm wrapped around him, holding him close. Aziraphale, despite not being one to sleep, had drifted off in the warmth and safety of Crowley’s embrace and had slept peacefully with a small smile on his lips.

Crowley pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s temple, causing the angel to stir. He turned under Crowley’s arm and buried his face in the demon’s chest, wrapping his arm around him and holding him tight.

“Good morning, angel.” Crowley said softly.

“Good morning, my love,” Aziraphale said, tilting his head up to look at his partner. 

Crowley dipped his head down to kiss Aziraphale, who hummed happily and smiled against his lips, then pushed his hand into Crowley’s hair and pulled him closer. Crowley was dizzy from the kiss, from the feeling of Aziraphale in his arms, of not having to hide his feelings anymore and having them reciprocated. He pulled away and settled Aziraphale’s head against his chest and rested his head on top of a halo of white curls. 

“What should we do today, angel?” Crowley asked.

“I’m quite content to stay like this,” Aziraphale pressed the softest kiss to Crowley’s neck.

“Tempting,” Crowley chuckled, “but I want to show you off.”

“Why?” Aziraphale looked up at him, eyes bright with love and curiosity.

“Because I love you and you love me and I’d like to be seen with you on my arm.”

“Dear, we’ve been out together before.” Aziraphale tutted.

“But never  _ together _ together. We don’t have to pretend anymore.” His hand found Aziraphale’s and their fingers entwined.

“I’m afraid people will be far more jealous of me than they will be of you,” Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s cheek.

“Don’t say that.” Crowley squeezed his partner’s hand.

“It’s the truth, dear. Nothing wrong with that.” Aziraphale stated plainly.

“No.” Crowley moved back to look into Aziraphale’s eyes. The angel reached for Crowley, but he was firm. “Aziraphale, you are beautiful. You are kind, generous, wonderful, and the perfect amount of bastard. Just because Gabriel said something doesn’t make it true. He was 100% wrong - you’re perfect.”

“But I’m soft and outdated. You’re so slim and stylish,” Aziraphale’s eyes dropped. 

“What did I just say?” Crowley lifted his partner’s face up to look at him again. “Soft isn’t bad. I happen to love it.” He ran his hands down Aziraphale’s side, almost reverently, to prove his point. He started at his cheek, plump and pink, then glided his hand down, ending at the soft curve of his stomach. Aziraphale tensed, staring at Crowley’s face, searching for any sign of disgust, but there was none to be found. Instead, Crowley’s features softened as he gently caressed the soft belly.

“I love you, Aziraphale. You are soft and beautiful and strong and gentle and I love every bit of you. Even your tartan bowtie.” That drew a chuckle out of Aziraphale, who was blushing pink and had the hints of tears swimming in his eyes. 

“Oh, Crowley,” his voice wavered. “You really think so?”

“Have I ever lied to you, angel?”

“Never.

“I’m all elbows and knees. Anyone who is looking at me needs to acquire better taste because the real treat is you.” Crowley kissed the tip of Aziraphale’s nose.

“Oh, darling, you are lovely. So tall and slim, so fashionable, and your hair is beautiful.” Aziraphale’s eyes were soft with a fierceness behind them. “Don’t you see how incredible you are?”

“I always hoped you’d notice,” Crowley admitted softly.

“I did. I always did.” Aziraphale kissed Crowley, soft against his lips, which turned into laughter. “We are quite the pair aren’t we? Quite opposite in almost every way.”

“Opposites attract, right?” Crowley grabbed Aziraphale around his waist and pulled close. If his fingers twitched against Aziraphale, making him burst into laughter, it wasn’t his fault.

“Stop! That tickles!” Aziraphale gasped between bouts of laughter, which only spurred Crowley on. Aziraphale kicked and flailed and sputtered as Crowley tickled, finding every ticklish spot he could. “Foul fiend! Stop this instant!” 

Aziraphale tried to toss Crowley off the bed, but somehow managed to throw them both off the bed instead. They landed on the floor in a tangled heap, both laughing.

“Well, that was a thing,” Crowley smirked.

“Indeed!” Aziraphale tried to huff, but couldn’t wipe the loving grin from his face.

“Up we go, angel. We’re going out, remember?” He stood and offered a hand to Aziraphale.

“Oh must we?” he pouted lightly.

“We have reservations.” Crowley winked and helped the angel to his feet.

“This is quite nice. I’m glad you insisted,” Aziraphale smiled across the table to Crowley.

“I know,” Crowley winked at him as the server approached.

“What can I get for you?” the young woman asked with a smile.

Aziraphale opened his mouth to order, but Crowley held up a finger and turned to the server.

“Two of the drink specials, the oyster appetizer, and,” he glanced at the menu, “the salmon and the tenderloin. Thanks.” He handed the menus to the server, who smiled and headed off to the kitchen. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all, dear.” Aziraphale had rested his chin in his hand and was looking dreamily at Crowley.

“Enough of that,” Crowley swatted at Aziraphale’s wrist and took his hand when it became available.

“I thought you wanted everyone to know we’re together,” Azirphale raised an eyebrow.

“I do, but we don’t want them to be sick.”

Just then the server returned with their drinks. She placed in front of them two glasses filled with an amber liquid and slices of apple, smiled, then rushed off to take another table’s order.

“Oh! What is this?” Aziraphale lifted his and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent. “It smells divine!”

“Apple Cider Sangria,” Crowley read from the specials menu displayed on the table.

“This is lovely! Quite a change from the wine you usually select.” Aziraphale wiggled as he sipped his drink.

“Well, a lot has changed,” Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand, earning him another dreamy look.

“All for the better, I hope,” Aziraphale teased.

“Well, there is one problem. I can’t seem to get rid of this angel. He’s been bothering me for 6000 years and I don’t know how to tell him that he doesn’t need to keep thwarting me. I’m retired now.”

“You could try telling him, you know. Be honest and upfront. After all those years, I’m sure you have come to some sort of understanding. He might just understand. He might even be retired, too.”

“Sometimes honesty isn’t easy,” Crowley smirked.

“True, but it might just work out in the end.”


	27. Day 27: Champagne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

“Oh, just one more shop, dear.” Aziraphale pulled Crowley out of the cold into what felt like the hundredth shop that day.

“What are you even looking for, angel?” Crowley grimaced as he looked at the goods of this shop. Frilly pillows, candles in every shape and color, canvas prints of cheesy phrases meant to brighten up homes, but instead pulled Crowley’s lips down even more.

“Nothing in particular, just browsing,” Aziraphale cheerily inspected the items on the shelves and displays. 

“Is something going on? You’ve dragged me into every single shop on the way back from the park.” Crowley leaned against a built in shelving unit and crossed his arms. 

“Of course not!” Azirpahale looked just a little bit jumpy. “I just wanted to prolong our outing. I’m having a lovely time.” He smiled, making Crowley’s annoyance soften.

“We could have a lovely time back at the bookshop, you know.” Crowley rolled his eyes.

“Of course, dear. If you really want to go…” Azirpahale started toward the door.

“No, finish looking here, but no more.” Crowley gently took Aziraphale’s arm and pulled him back.

“You’re sure?” 

“M’Sure,” Crowley pressed a quick kiss to Aziraphale’s cheek, causing him to blush, which was quite a lovely look on the angel, then released him to finish browsing.

Thirty-five minutes later the two finally emerged from the shop. Aziraphale had bought nothing, but had made Crowley promise to return to that shop with him another day to pick out some items for the cottage, something they had chosen together.

They made their way slowly back to the bookshop, arm in arm, Aziraphale chattering happily away about the cottage and how thoughtful Crowley was to buy it for them and how excited he was to see it. Crowley just smiled and nodded as they walked.

As they neared the shop, Aziraphale quieted down.

“Okay, angel?” Crowley asked.

“Oh yes, just thinking.” Aziraphale assured him.

“About…”

“Nothing really. Just planning which books to bring to the cottage first. So many to sort through, you know.” Azirahale wasn’t lying exactly, which was good because he wasn’t very good at lying, but this was enough of a lie to set Crowley on edge. 

“You’re sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, love.” This definitely wasn’t a lie. Crowley relaxed a bit.

“Ah, here we are!” Aziraphale stepped to the front door of the shop, and unlocked the door. He held his hand out to Crowley before stepping inside, partner in tow.

Inside, the lights were thrown on and Crowley nearly screamed as a room full of people yelled ‘SURPRISE!”

“What the heaven is this?” Crowley yelped.

“A surprise party, darling!” Aziraphale beamed. “I may have phoned Madame Tracy and mentioned our engagement and she insisted on hosting an engagement party for us! Isn’t that lovely?”

“Sorry for the fright, but it is a surprise party. Congratulations!” Madame Tracy stepped forward. She looked quite different than when they had seen her last. Her hair was blonde, straight, and tied back in a ribbon and she wore a simple navy dress with a gold brooch at the waist, black fringed shawl around her shoulders. She held two champagne flutes in hand, which she handed to the happy couple and then gave them each a quick hug.

“All these books and you still had to take mine?” A dark haired woman stepped forward, dressed in heavy navy and forest green skirts, thick rimmed glasses framing her face.

“Anathema! How lovely to see you! I’m so glad you could make it on such short notice!” Aziraphale hugged her.

“I told you we’d meet again under better circumstances and this seemed like one of the best circumstances one could have. Couldn’t pass it up.” Anathema grinned at him, then turned to Crowley.

“Congrats.” She hugged him and stepped aside, long skirts swishing and swirling. 

“So happy for you!” Newt was shaking Aziraphale’s hand with gusto. He looked much the same as before, bespectacled, slightly disheveled, but infinitely happier. 

“Ah, thank you so much. So glad you could come.” Aziraphale said with sincerity.

“I’m glad we could be here to celebrate,” he turned to Crowley and shook his hand. Aziraphale hid a giggle as Crowley shot him a small grimace. Newt had quite the grip.

“I’ve set out all the snacks just there, and drinks just beside them. Please enjoy!” Madame Tracy ushered Newt and Anathema out of the way, so the others could congratulate the couple.

Shadwell was still highly suspicious, but was polite, at least polite enough for Shadwell. Adam Young was there with his parents, who were kind, but seemed confused as to why they were there. Even dog barked his congratulations before trotting off after his boy. The rest of them Them were in tow, having tagged along with the Youngs. Pepper seemed especially excited in her congratulations. Aziraphale even thought he heard her whisper something about how happy she was that the nice queer couple was getting married, such a great example for the queer youth of today.

“Do you mind terribly, love?” Aziraphale asked Crowley quietly once everyone had congratulated them and moved to the snack table.

“Surprised, but I don’t mind. It’s actually kind of nice to have people to share the news with. Even this lot,” he inclined his head toward the seemingly random group assembled. Newt and Mr. Young were talking animatedly about something, while Anathema and Madame Tracy were deep in conversation beside them. Mrs. Young was pouring more champagne for the group while Shadwell was eyeing Dog warily. The Them explored the bookshop, looking for new ideas for games and being particularly respectful of Aziraphale’s collection.

“It is nice to have people to share it with, isn’t it?” Aziraphale looked dreamily across the shop.

“Why don’t we?” Crowley’s face lit up.

“Why don’t we what?”

“Share it? Let’s have a proper wedding so they can be there!” Crowley turned to face Aziraphale and grabbed both his hands.

“A proper wedding?” Aziraphale echoed, unbelieving. 

“Why not? Let’s do it up all nice. No churches, of course, we could do it here! In the shop! Or in the park! Anywhere you like.” Crowley’s golden eyes were wide behind his glasses.

“That sounds lovely!” Aziraphale beamed.

“Champagne! We need more champagne!” Crowley dropped Aziraphale’s hands and sauntered toward the crowd. “Everyone, refill your champagne!” he announced.

The crowd looked puzzled, but gladly received more bubbly. 

“Angel, come here!” He held out an arm, which he wrapped around Aziraphale’s waist when he was by his side. “We’ve got an announcement. We’re getting married and we want you all to be there!”

A chorus of “oooh” and “when” rang from the assembly.

“Today!” Crowley cheered.

“Ah, not today. We do need a little bit of time to plan the ceremony.” Aziraphale laid a hand on Crowley’s chest, so as to not deflate him.

“Right,” Crowley agreed.

“I’d love to help with that!” Madame Tracy spoke up.

“Me, too!” Anathema smiled. “I could even perform the ceremony if you’d like.”

“Oh, we would love that!” Aziraphale looked on the verge of tears.

“We can spend tomorrow planning and prepping and have the wedding the following afternoon!” Madame Tracy announced. “Will you be able to make the trip back?” She turned to Mrs. Young, who nodded.

“Adam, would you be the ring bearer?” Crowley asked and he could hear Aziraphale choke back a sob.

“I’d be honored,” the boy replied solemnly. 

“Good lad.” Crowley nodded to him.

“I’ll help with music,” Newt volunteered. “No computers, though.”

“Could you handle a record player?” Crowley asked.

“Absolutely!” Newt nodded excitedly.

“Oh Crowley, this is wonderful!” Aziraphale was wiping tears from his cheeks. “I love you so very much, dearest.”

“I love you too, angel.” He kissed Aziraphale softly, ignoring the soft “awww” from the group.

“This calls for a toast!” Anathema lifted her glass, prompting the others to follow suit. “To the happy couple!”

“To the happy couple!” the group echoed, then clinked glasses together.

“To our side,” Crowley whispered to Aziraphale, who pulled him into another kiss.


	28. Day 28: Snowball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts  
(I took some extra liberties with this prompt...)

“Oh, I rather like these. What do you think, dear?” Aziraphale’s eyes were sparkling, his hand holding onto Crowley’s like he would never let go. The two were seated around a small table with Anathema and Madame Tracy. They were looking through catalogs of wedding designs and their consultant hovered just steps away, chatting politely with other customers as they walked by, and checking in with coworkers.

Aziraphale was pointing to an archway covered with lights, vines, and flowers. 

“Too much?”

“Nah, I like it. We should have different flowers, though. Those are summer blooms.” Crowley smiled softly at his angel, who wiggled happily. “Could even add some snowballs.”

“But won’t they melt?” Aziraphale’s brow furrowed.

“I was teasing, angel. Just flowers.”

“It will be so lovely.” He pressed a kiss to Crowley’s cheek and the ladies giggled delightedly. 

“Crowley, why don’t we meet with the florist while Mr. Fell goes to his fitting.” Anathema suggested.

“And we will check in with the caterer while you get your fitting, Mr. Crowley.” Madame Tracy was scribbling furiously into a notebook. She had schedules and ideas and sketches to organize and she was taking her job very seriously.

“Sounds good.”

“Now, I think the last thing we need is your color scheme,” Madame Tracy looked up from her notebook. “Have you decided on that yet?”

“Uh, angel?” Crowley turned to Aziraphale, whose brow was furrowed in thought.

“Perhaps it should match the decorations we already have up. Silver and gold. And maybe a splash of red would be nice.” Aziraphale looked to Crowley for approval.

“Sounds perfect, angel. Now, you better get going. Don’t want to be late for your fitting.” Crowley stood and pulled Aziraphale up with him.

“Oh, I do wish we didn’t have to be apart. I’d much prefer to do this together,” Aziraphale said with just the tiniest pout of his lips.

“Don’t worry, angel. Just a few hours. And after tomorrow you’ll never be rid of me and just think how sorry you’ll be then,” Crowley teased. The women tittered and he couldn’t find it in him to care. After 6,000 years of waiting and hiding his feelings and creating this rough persona, he was more than happy to shed it and allow himself to be soft with his angel, no matter who was watching.

“I won’t be the least bit sorry and you know it,” Aziraphale chuckled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Crowley kissed Aziraphale, then allowed himself to be swept away with a  _ swish _ of Anathema’s skirts.

Aziraphale followed Madame Tracy as she flitted about the shop, commenting on every suit she saw.

“Too modern, too loud, too impractical,” she muttered as she ran her hands along the rack, inspecting each suit.

“I actually thought something modern might be nice,” Aziraphale suggested. “Crowley would like it. I’m sure he’ll be in something modern.”

“But that’s not you, pet. You’re much more traditional.” Madame Tracy bustled on.

“I had thought, since it’s our wedding -”

“He likes you as you are, outdated wardrobe and all. He might even be disappointed if you wore something too new.” She winked at him and went back to work while he sorted that out in his head.

“I do believe you’re right,” he said after a few minutes.

“Good. Now, try this on.” Madame Tracy’s eyes were wide and bright as she held out a suit for him.

He stood in front of the mirror, admiring the suit. It was perfect - traditional, but much more fitted than his usual coat. He had to admit that he looked rather good.

“Oh, it’s just perfect! Mr. Crowley isn’t going to be able to take his eyes off you!” Madame Tracy cooed as she circled him. “Oh yes, we will take it!” she announced to no one in particular. “Now for the accessories!”

Crowley and Anathema had spent the hour picking out the flowers. Crowley stalked through the florist shop, muttering at the droopy flowers and browning leaves, Anathema trailing along behind him, glad that they were the only customers in the shop. The single employee stayed behind the counter, much to her relief. 

“Now, these are proper flowers!” Crowley said at last.

“They are beautiful!” Anathema agreed, and not just because she wanted to be done and get out of here before the employee called the cops on the strange man talking to the plants.

“Oi! How many of these have you got?” Crowley called across the shop.

When they had paid and given the bookshop’s address for the delivery, Crowley and Anathema headed off for Crowley’s fitting. They passed Aziraphale and Madame Tracy on their way out of the shop.

“You’re glowing, angel. Happy?”

“Oh yes, I do believe I am. Tomorrow I will marry the love of my life and I will look quite good doing it.” Aziraphale hopped up onto his toes and kissed Crowley happily, if a bit messily, before bounding off down the road. “Any preference for catering, dear?” he called back.

“Whatever you like. Just make sure the wine’s good!” 

“Come on!” Anathema pulled Crowley into the shop. “Preferences?”

“Well -” Crowley began.

“Never mind, I think I know!” Anathema whirled around the shop in search for the perfect suit, white only took about ten minutes.

Crowley had gotten bored of looking through what seemed like the same suit over and over, so he waited by the accessories. While he paced there, something caught his eye.

“I got it! Try it on!” Anathema hurried over and trust the hanger into his hands. “What’s that?”

“Nothing, just looking.” Crowley turned to the fitting room.

“I think you’re right. It’ll match perfectly! Here,” she tossed it to him and nearly pushed him into the fitting room.

“How am I to make up my mind? Everything is absolutely scrummy!” Aziraphale stared at the plates in front of him, sporting the remains of the food options from the caterer.

“Well, I think the second package would be nice. Not too heavy, but substantial enough to fill you up, nothing too messy, and the presentation is beautiful.”

“Oh thank you. That’s very helpful. You’re quite right, of course.” Aziraphale smiled as Madame Tracy scribbled more notes into her notebook.

“Lovely. Now for cake! Do you have a preference for flavor? It’s quite short notice, of course, but I know a lady who runs a bakery near here. Lovely little place, has the most delicious devil’s food cake.” 

“That does sound divine,” Aziraphale chuckled at his joke.

Aziraphale had happily sampled four different cakes and six different frostings before settling on a three layer cake: one devil’s food, one angel’s food, and one marbled. The frosting would be an almond buttercream, so light and fluffy that he thought if clouds tasted like anything, it would be this. He and Madame Tracy chatted with the baker about the decorations and then were on their way. The cake would be delivered tomorrow just before the ceremony and Aziraphale may have waved his hand as he left, making sure the ovens would be just the right temperature and there would be no problems or setbacks with the cakes.

“I do believe that’s it. All we’ve left to do is decorate the shop and set up the tables.” Madame Tracy looked quite pleased with herself. 

“Do you think Crowley and Anathema will be back at the shop already?” Aziraphale couldn't help the butterflies in his stomach when he thought of how soon the wedding was.

“I expect so, pet. Let’s not keep them waiting!” She tucked her arm through Aziraphale’s and the two set off to the bookshop.

The four of them, plus Newt, set about decorating as soon as they were inside. Crowley and Anathema were threading the flowers through the arch in the backroom while Aziraphale and Madame Tracy set up the tables and chairs, adding sparkling tablecloths and wrapping ribbons around the chairbacks. Newt was in a corner with the gramophone and a stack of records. He seemed to have a handle on it, thank  _ someone _ .

The room sparkled in the lights, giving the illusion of snow, which gave Aziraphale an idea. He ran to Madame Tracy’s notebook and jotted down his thoughts.

Crowley sauntered out of the backroom as the beginning notes of a waltz filled the shop. He swiftly wrapped Aizrpahale in his arms and pulled him into a dance.

“Crowley, what are you doing?” he asked, surprised, but pleased.

“Gotta practice for our first dance,” Crowley smirked as they spun around the room.

“You wily serpent,” Aziraphale smile fondly and found his footing.

“ _ Your _ wily serpent, angel.”

“I like the sound of that,” Aziraphale laughed as Crowley threw him into a dip and kissed him until he was dizzy.


	29. Day 29: Glitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

“You’re sure I look alright?” Aziraphale asked Madame Tracy. They were standing in the small flat above the bookshop, Aziraphale fiddling with his new waistcoat.

“You look positively stunning! Give me a spin!” She lifted her hand and spun her index finger in a quick circle to demonstrate. Aziraphale obliged, pink rising in his cheeks. His heart was pounding in his chest and he had to keep reminding himself to breathe. “Just perfect, pet. Don’t worry, like I said before, he won’t be able to take his eyes off you!” She gave him a quick hug, then bounded back to the small side table where she had left her notebook. “The guests should be arriving any minute, and the ceremony is set to start in thirty minutes. Is there anything else you need before I pop downstairs?”

“I don’t believe so,” Aziraphale crossed to her and took her free hand. “Thank you. For everything. I…” he couldn’t find the words, heart overflowing with gratitude.

“I know. No need to thank me. I’m so happy to be a part of it. Now, take some deep breaths and remember to enjoy the day. It’s one you’ll remember forever.” She pecked him on the cheek and rushed down the stairs. 

Aziraphale stared after her.  _ Forever _ . She didn’t know how right she was.

“Hurry up! How much product can you even get in your hair?” Anathema was standing outside the bathroom in Crowley’s flat, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.

“Shut up!” came the reply, muffled by the closed door.

“You’re going to be late for your own wedding!” Anathema said, exasperated. 

It had taken her all morning to get Crowley ready. He kept making excuses as to why he couldn’t put his suit on yet, took the longest shower in the history of the world, and then had spent close to an hour on his hair.

“M’not gonna be late.” Crowley said, opening the door and stepping toward Anathema.

She gasped softly and smiled.

“I doubt he’d be upset with you if you were, looking like that.” She smirked at him and he seemed quite pleased with himself.

“Let’s go. I’ve got an angel to marry!”

Aziraphale was standing by the archway, which was glowing with lights that weaved between green ivy and the reddest poinsettias he had ever seen. Aziraphale had used a little miracle to string snowflakes from the ceiling, hanging down on sheer ribbon, the flakes glittering and shimmering in the light.

A dozen chairs were set out in pairs, split down the middle to create an aisle. The chairs were covered in a white material with sparkling silver strands, tied around with an elegant red ribbon, holly tucked into each bow.

Off to the side sat the food for the reception and it smelled just as good as it looked. The cake stood tall at one end, topped with a large buttercream poinsettia, edged in gold. There was a crystal punch bowl and matching glassware set beside the bottles of wine and champagne. The rest of the food was displayed on different levels, all on gold and silver platters. Small crystal plates were piled at the head of the table, red napkins beside them. It truly was beautiful. 

As the guests filled the seats, Aziraphale’s butterflies tripled in size. He smiled nervously at each one as they sat, but found he couldn’t get his eyes to focus.

“Don’t be nervous,” a young voice interrupted his thoughts.

He looked down to see Adam standing, dressed in a very nice suit, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“No need. You love each other. You were meant to be together. Just be happy.” Adam spoke plainly, smiled at Aziraphale, then turned and went to his seat. He sat next to Pepper, in front of his parents. The other members of The Them were across the aisle from them, sitting behind Newt, who was double checking the gramophone and the order of records. Across the aisle sat Shadwell, muttering to himself and casting suspicious glances around the shop, next to a seat reserved for Madame Tracy. Madame Tracy appeared and took her seat, giving Aziraphale a small nod. 

Anathema appeared a moment later, dressed in a long black skirt and blazer over a silver blouse. She wore a small red flower in her buttonhole, hair pulled up in an intricate bun, small strands of curls framing her face. She took Aziraphale’s hand and squeezed it.

“Ready?” she asked, and he nodded. She turned to Newt and winked at him. He lowered the needle to the gramophone and the music started.

The front door opened and Crowley entered the room. The door miraculously closed behind him, though he didn’t move. They were frozen, staring at each other.

Crowley was wearing a slim double breasted suit in black, with satin lapels. A small poinsettia a bright red in his buttonhole. Beneath the jacket was a charcoal grey shirt and a thin red tie. Something sparkled against the tie, but Azirpahale couldn’t make it out at this distance. Anathema cleared her throat, which prompted Crowley to advance, his shiny black and red wingtip shoes clicking against the floor as he walked.

He was staring at Aziraphale, a huge smile on his face. Of course the angel and gone old school with a morning suit. The grey tailcoat was beautifully fitted to the angel’s shape, the double breasted waistcoat was a cream brocade with a pale blue ascot, almost silvery in the light. He had the traditional grey striped trousers and his own pair of shiny black dress shoes, covered with white spats, gold buttons peeking out from below his pant leg. 

When Crowley approached, Azirpahale blinked away tears to see that the sparkle from Crowley’s tie was a pin, a pair of angel wings encrusted with diamonds.

“Crowley, you’re a vision,” Azirpahale breathed.

“Angel, you’re beautiful.” Crowley took his hands.

“Presenting Mister and Mister Crowley-Fell! You may now kiss your husband!”

Crowley wiped a tear from Aziraphale’s cheek, wrapped his hand around the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Aziraphale threw his arms around his husband and melted into his lips. The crowd cheered and began to throw something into the air.

“Glitter?” Crowley asked, brushing some out of the angel’s soft curls.

“I thought it looked like snow,” Aziraphale beamed up at him.

“My clever angel,” Crowley kissed him again. “My husband.”

He wiped another happy tear from Aziraphale’s cheek and kissed his forehead, wrapping him up in his arms.


	30. Day 30: Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

The reception had been a blast. The food was delicious and it seemed that no matter how much was eaten, there was still plenty left to be enjoyed. The cake was light and delicious - even Crowley snuck a second piece when he thought no one was looking. 

The Them set up a bluetooth speaker and played modern music, teaching Crowley all the new dances. Even Newt tried to learn them, though he was terribly uncoordinated. Anathema had been sitting next to Aziraphale, chatting and laughing at the group dancing to the bebop. Anathem excused herself, crossed the room and changed the song to something slower, something orchestral, it sounded like it was from the 1940’s. She winked at Aziraphale and grabbed Newt’s hand, pulling him into an embrace, swaying together. Aziraphale thought he noticed Newt’s lips moving as if he were counting the beats, but stopped when Anathema kissed him gently, then settled her head against his shoulder. He seemed to stand just a little taller after that.

Madame Tracy and Shadwell and Mr. and Mrs. Young followed them into the dance, settling against their partners and swaying to the music. The four members of The Them linked arms and swayed in a circle, giggling and making faces at each other. 

Aziraphale’s gaze drifted to his husband, who was standing with his head cocked to one side, a fond smile on his face. He crossed to Aziraphale and bowed, offering his hand.

“Care to dance?” He looked up, still bowed, and Aziraphale could see behind the dark glasses to those golden eyes he so adored.

“I’d be delighted!” Aziraphale took his hand and was whisked to the dance floor. They set their frame in a traditional dance hold, Crowley’s arm around Aziraphale’s waist, Aziraphale’s on Crowley’s shoulder, their other hands clasped. Crowley led him in a waltz around the room, weaving between the others on the dance floor, surprising Aziraphale by spinning him, earning him the sound of Aziraphale’s contagious laugh. By the end of the dance they were both laughing and clinging to each other. Crowley spun Aziraphale one last time, landing in a dip, then pulled him up and into a kiss, wrapping his long arms around him to pull him as close as possible. Aziraphale’s arms were suddenly around him, a steady, warm weight, assuring Crowley that this was real.

The next morning they woke in each other’s arms. They kissed and cuddled and touched each other’s rings with reverence. They were married. After 6,000 years of hushed conversations, excuses, and acting, they were together. They were husbands. They were in love and loved openly.

“I do believe it’s time to get up, love. We have a lot to get done today,” Aziraphale tried to get out of bed, but was pulled back in by Crowley.

“I’ll take care of it,” Crowley snapped. “There, all done. Now, come back here.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale scolded.

“S’already done, angel. No use using another snap to undo it.”

“I suppose you’re right. But since it’s done we might as well get a wiggle on. We will be doing the rest of the work the human way.” Aziraphale kissed Crowley quickly and hopped out of bed before he could be stopped.

When he went downstairs he saw the product of Crowley’s snap: boxes stacked neatly by the front door, packed, labelled, and ready to go. Most of the shop was still intact, as Aziraphale wasn’t ready to sell it - too many memories here, too many comforts, too much love - but he was excited to open this new book and write his own story, _ their _ story. No more rules, no more orders, no more heaven or hell, just he and Crowley living their lives together. 

He felt Crowley’s long arms wind around his waist and settled back against his chest.

“Okay, angel?”

“Tickety-boo, dear. Quite excited. This is quite a big day, you know. I’m moving to my new cottage.” 

“Oh? Got any roommates?” Crowley smirked against wite curls.

“Just one. Rather a mess, though. Drinks up all my best wine and leaves the empty bottles just littered about.” Aziraphale smirked.

“Sounds terrible. Must be some reason you keep him around, though.”

“I suppose so. I think we’re married,” Aziraphale turned his head so their lips met. “Pull the Bentley around, love? We’d better get this all loaded in and get on our way.” He gestured to the boxes.

“Alright, angel.” He sauntered to the door, then paused and turned back. “Sure we can’t do this the easy way?”

“Quite sure, love. Go on, now.” Aziraphale sat on a few of the boxes. “I’ll be waiting.”

A crooked smile spread across Crowley’s face. He felt overfilled, overflowing with the love he was receiving and the love he had to give. It was as if the universe lived inside his chest, constant and ever expanding, swirling and shifting, exploding and reforming. 

“Are you alright, love?” Aziraphale was in front of him, cupping his face gently in his hand. Crowley placed his hand over Aziraphale’s and closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of the angel, feeling his warmth, his very being an anchor for Crowley’s fallen soul.

“Yeah, m’alright. Just love you.” Crowley opened his eyes again, fierce, yet gentle as they stared into the blue eyes he knew so well. 

“Oh, my darling.” It seemed impossible, but his features somehow grew even softer. Aziraphale felt love flowing through his veins, pulsing through his racing heart. He felt the tingle of it against his palm, the heat of it from golden eyes. “I love you absolutely.”

“Can’t believe we’re married.” Crowley closed his eyes, overwhelmed, and tilted his head forward until their foreheads touched. 

“I can’t believe you bought us a cottage,” Aziraphale giggled.

“Guess I should take you there,” Crowley stepped back and smiled at Aziraphale. “Wait for me. You promised you would.”

“Always.”

The drive to the cottage had been nice. The newlyweds chatted about the cottage and bickered about how to style the interior.

They lugged the boxes up the front walk and into the cottage, which, as Crowley predicted, Aziraphale fell in love with at once. 

It was charming and the angel immediately set to unpacking boxes and settling into the house. He lovingly placed his books onto the built in shelves in the library. It was just as cozy as he had hoped, dark wood and a large bay window which let in plenty of light.

Crowley worked on organizing the kitchen and together they set the living room. It wasn’t complete by the time night had fallen, there were boxes still half full piled in the corners of rooms, but Crowley and Aziraphale were tired and happy. 

They curled up together on the couch with the takeout they had picked up on the drive.

“S’almost a new year.” Crowley’s brow was furrowed.

“Is it already?” Aziraphale was staring out the front window, adjusting to his new home. He was glad to be rid of the noise of London traffic, but it was a change to be surrounded by such silence. How could silence be loud, oppressive? He shrugged it off. He’d get used to it. In no time at all he would be used to this and the sounds of London would be overwhelming.

“Wasn’t supposed to be a new year.” Crowley absentmindedly reached for Aziraphale’s hand, entwining their fingers and rubbing his thumb along the angel’s warm skin.

“I’m glad there is. So many possibilities, so many beautiful things to look forward to.” 

“What do you want to do?” Crowley asked.

“You mean like a resolution?” Aziraphale perked up.

“No, I mean I guess so. Sure, why not?” Crowley adjusted his position to face Aziraphale more, and looked at him, waiting for the answer.

“I suppose I want to enjoy our life together. Live more like humans do. No more heaven or hell, no more miracles, just us living as humans.” Aziraphale’s eyes were glazed, staring out the window, imagining what the future might hold for them.

“Learning how to live after being alive for 6,000 years. Sounds like the kind of resolution you’d have.” Crowley smirked.

“What about you, love. Do you have a resolution?” Aziraphale’s eyes moved to Crowley’s, eyebrows raised in questioning.

“Dunno. Never really thought about it. Suppose just loving you. Telling you, showing you, making sure you know you are loved. Make you forget about all the times you felt unloved or unloveable. You were always loved. Always. I just couldn’t tell you.” Crowley placed his arm around the angel’s shoulder and pulled him against his side. 

There was silence for a few minutes, just the sounds of breathing and heartbeats, unnecessary, but part of them now. How they’d changed in 6,000 years, and how they really hadn’t. They were still, at their core, the same as they always had been, they had simply grown into themselves, become more themselves as they ever had been. 

“Too much, angel?” Crowley asked softly, guiding him back to reality.

“Oh no, my darling. I was just thinking.” Aziraphale snuggled further into Crowley.

“About what?” He pressed a kiss to the angel’s hair.

“How glorious this new year will be.”


	31. Day 31: Auld Lang Syne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their first Christmas after the averted Apocalypse  
Using Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables Prompts

It was a gloomy New Year’s Eve, but nice nonetheless. Crowley had lit a fire in the fireplace and it was crackling away while Aziraphale sat on the couch, reading. The two had spent most of the morning unpacking, placing with care the items from their separate lives into a place of their unity. Crowley walked through the house, carrying empty boxes in his arms. He stopped in the doorway of the library and smiled. It already smelled right, the musty scent of old paper and ink, the light, dusty, scent of the antique wingback chairs and heavy curtains.

“You alright, dear? Need help with those boxes?” Aziraphale called from the couch.

“No, I’ve got it. Be back in a minute,” he called back, moving through the kitchen and through the back door. He set the boxes into the recycling bin and turned round, looking over the gardens. He had it all planned out, the rose bushes, the flowers creating rainbows of colors that could be seen from the kitchen table as they enjoyed their mugs of coffee or tea in the morning, the lights he would hang so they could enjoy long evenings outside in the summer, the rose bushes and apple trees that would line the property.

Yes, this would be a good year.

He headed back inside as he heard the phone ring. He flopped down on the couch next to Aziraphale, who was talking animatedly.

“Oh, yes, that sounds lovely. Thank you! No, we’ll be by. It’s no trouble at all! Oh, yes, and,” he paused with a side glance at Crowley and lowered his voice, “you may want to warn young Newton. You know how my dear husband drives.” Crowley raised an eyebrow and Aziraphale waved him off before he could comment. “Certainly, see you soon. Pip pip!” He hung up the antique rotary phone.

“Anathema?” Crowley asked.

“Yes! She and Newton have invited us to dinner! They’re still in London to celebrate the New Year and they hoped we would be able to meet them for a nice dinner. She expressed concern that we hadn’t had a proper meal, what with the moving. Isn’t that kind?” Aziraphale carefully placed a marker in his book, laid it carefully on the side table and began to walk about the room. “I told her we’d stop by to pick them up when we got into London. Anathema is making the reservations.” He glanced at the clock. “Oh dear me. We’d better get going. I’d like to stop and pick up a small gift for them. Maybe a nice wine? What do you think, dear?” He finally stilled, looking to his husband, who pushed himself up from the couch and crossed to press a kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead.

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes.” He crossed the room in four long strides, then poked his head back through the doorway. “And yeah, wine’s good. Red for her, white for him.”

Aziraphale phoned when they were about to leave, nearly and hour and a half later, so Newt and Anathema were waiting for them outside when the Bentley pulled up to the curb. They slid into the backseat and Azirapahle twisted in his seat and began to chat with them. He placed a hand lighty on Crowley’s arm to remind him to be more cautious in his driving. The two humans in the backseat would not simply be discorporated if there were an accident. 

Crowley obliged, but only just enough. Aziraphale noticed Crowley’s smirk when he took a corner a bit too fast and Newt yelped and clung to Anathema. 

“Crowley, we talked about this,” Azirpahale whispered.

“I’m not perfect, angel,” he shrugged, still smirking.

“Oh good, a parking spot!” Anathema said from the back seat, one hand patting Newt comfortingly on the knee, the other pointing to a spot ahead, just in front of the restaurant.

“This is an enchanting place, Anathema! I can’t believe I’ve never been here before!” Aziraphale’s eyes were scanning the menu

“Newt actually found this one!” 

“Yeah, got a bit turned around the other day, er, distracted you know, turned down this street and there it was!” Newt seemed to choke a bit on the attention, flushing.

“Distracted by what?” Crowley asked, head tilted to one side, grin playing at the edges of his lips. Aziraphale cast him a side glance, but didn’t say a word.

“Well, dogs.” Newt admitted.

“Dogs?” Crowley shot up in his chair and Aziraphale placed a hand on his arm.

“There was this dog walker and the dogs just got away from her and took off after me!” Newt explained, distressed at the memory.

“It’s okay, we got it all sorted out,” Anathema patted his hand.

Crowley roared with laughter, nearly knocking his water glass off the table, miraculously caught by Aziraphale, who gave Crowley a stern look, then laughed.

The restaurant was packed with families, couples, and groups of friends celebrating the new year, a happy buzz of conversation filling the air. The clink of glasses and raucous laughter celebrated the happy memories and milestones of the year past, while the losses and hard times were remembered with quiet moments, squeezes of hands, or heads on shoulders. 

This was exactly where they needed to be. To spend this day with humans, share in their joys and see them processing their pain with the support of those they love, being close with the people who have changed their lives, made them better. 

This strange little group gathered around this table, thrown together in the battle to protect their homes, now sitting together, toasting their victory.

“To the world,” Aziraphale lifted his glass.

“To the world,” the others echoed. Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand.

“Nearly eleven,” Newt observed as the four stepped out of the restaurant.

“Would any of you care for a stroll?” Aziraphale asked.

“Where to?” Crowley asked, offering his arm.

“Nowhere in particular,” Aziraphale smiled, taking his arm. 

“I think that sounds nice,” Anathema agreed with a nod.

The four set off down the crowded streets and wandered, with no destination in mind, and ended up in a park. They found an open bench and squeezed onto it, Newt on Anathema’s lap, her arms wrapped around his waist. He settled against her and let his feet kick into the air. 

“Any plans for you two?” Aziraphale asked. “What’s next?”

“Well, I’m thinking of buying Jasmine Cottage. I think it’ll be a nice place to start over.” She leaned her head forward onto Newt’s shoulder.

“Maybe a nice place for a wedding?” Crowley suggested, causing Newt to turn bright red and nearly tumble off of Anathema’s lap. She simply chuckled and tightened her arms around him.

“Maybe. We haven’t talked about it, yet. Still pretty early in the relationship.” She leaned closer to Aziraphale and whispered, “He can’t say the ‘l’ word yet. Nearly passes out every time he tries.”

“Poor thing,” Aziraphale laughed lightly, like a bell ringing through the night. “I’m sure he’ll work up the nerve one day.”

_ Ten _

“What’s that?” Newt interrupted, standing and taking a few steps away from the bench.

_ Nine _

“Are they counting down?” Crowley stood and joined him.

_ Eight _

“Is it midnight already?” Aziraphale gasped.

_ Seven _

“Must be!” Crowley held out his hand to the angel.

_ Six _

“The start of a new year,” Anathema mused. “A new year with no prophecies, no rules to follow, just living life.”

_ Five _

“No orders.” Crowley wrapped Aziraphale in his arms.

_ Four _

“No fear,” Aziraphale added.

_ Three  
  
_

“I love you, Crowley.”

_ Two  
  
_

“I love you, Aziraphale”

_ One _

They kissed as they heard the cheers ringing in the new year. The sound of singing filled the air as the cheers died down. Aziraphale lifted his head and joined in the song, his voice clear and strong. Crowley joined in, lower and rougher in Aziraphale’s ear. Anathema hummed along and Newt sang off key under his breath.

_ Should auld acquaintance be forgot, _ _   
_ _ And never brought to mind? _ _   
_ _ Should auld acquaintance be forgot, _ _   
_ _ And auld lang syne. _

_ For auld lang syne, my jo, _ _   
_ _ For auld lang syne. _ _   
_ _ We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, _ _   
_ __ For auld lang syne.

“Happy New Year, my love.”

“Happy New Year, angel.”


End file.
